


What if

by AuthorReinvented



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: FACE Family, Fluff, Funny, Humour, Lighthearted, Other, Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 54
Words: 35,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22340329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorReinvented/pseuds/AuthorReinvented
Summary: A series of light-hearted "What ifs" for Hetalia.What if America doesn't really need glasses?What if England can make one dish really well?Read to find out!
Comments: 71
Kudos: 210





	1. Canada doesn't need glasses?

Something was different with Canada, and France couldn't put his finger on it.

Maybe it was the fact Canada chose to don his Mountie uniform at this month's meeting instead of his usual tan jacket and aviator goggles. Possibly it had something to do with the fact America and Canada were not speaking, although neither would tell France why.

France felt his eyes being drawn to Canada more than usual, and it frustrated him that he couldn't figure it out. Something about the way Canada _looked_ \- No, not his appearance - the way his gaze seemed to penetrate, his eyes seeming too sharp, drew France's attention to him. Not just Franc's attention, but England's, and Russia's and every other countries' attention was drawn to him.

England was surprisingly, unnafected, and didn't seem to understand why France was so unnerved. When France had tried to explain to him that Canada's gaze seemed _too_ sharp, England had simply tilted his head quizzical and explained that "Canada has always seen more than he lets on." France was getting frustrated. "But something is _off._ " He insisted. England hummed in thought for a moment, too distracted to squabble, and then came to a realization.

"Isn't this the first time you've seen him without his glasses?" England pointed out. "He always take them and his goggles off when he argues with America. It really unnerves others when he does that." England's casual observation hit France like a bag of bricks, and he had to blink a few times to catch his bearings. It wasn't like France had never seen Canada without his glasses, but that was only back when Canada was still a tiny colony, before England took him away.

One glance at Canada proved England's theory correct. Without his round glasses to hide behind, his eyes were peircing, assisted by the hard look in his eyes and his tense jaw whenever he heard America's too-loud voice. "Eh? Is Canada wearing contacts?" The answer came from directly behind him and France jumped as America spoke. "Nah, he doesnt need glasses to start with. He just wears them cuz I gave them to him." despite the pout on his face, America spoke a little proudly.

"It was an independence gift." America explained to a shocked France. "The goggles were an apology for the 1812 thing." England clearly already knew this information and, although his face twisted at the word "independence", he scolded America as usual. "I don't know what you did, but go apologise!" America scowled. "Not unless he does first!"

France suddenly felt a cold presence by his side, and Canada spoke up, coldly. "oh, I'm sorry, I apologize for you being an ass." America bristled. "It's not like I did it on purpose!"

"Hockey Sticks don't 'accidently' break!"

" _You_ broke it over _my_ head, because I ate the last of the syrup!"

"That doesn't give you the right to steal my glasses!" 

Canada fumed, angrily. America drew short. "Dude, I didn't steal your glasses!" Canada frowned suspiciously. "Well, they were missing this morning." America was frowning too. "I put a pair of mine in their place!" he protested. "There was a crack in them, so I took them to get repaired secretly." His pout was returning. "I wanted it to be a surprise!" Canada looked startled, then, embarrassed. "Im sorry, Eh." He offered tentatively, rubbing his eyes. "I thought you were taking them back and I just-" America caught his brother in a hug. "I didn't mean to scare you." He apologized.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out some glasses wrapped in a handkerchief. "I wanted to give these back to you earlier, but.." He trailed off, and slid the glasses on his brother's face. Canada seemed to transform under the comfort of his glasses, and France watched as his gaze became less intense and his whole body seemed to relax. France ruffled the hair of the now- passive Canada and smiled. "You know," He advised playfully to Canada, "You are très beau wit'out the glasses, but j'aime the Canada with glasses the most." After all, France thought, that's the Canada he knows the best.


	2. America doesn't need glasses?

America stumbled over Prussia's outstretched foot and fell like a log, hitting the ground and rolling. His glasses slipped from his face and clattered to the ground. America sat up quickly, reaching for them, but there was a telltale crunch, and he froze, eyes following the black boot up to the face of the owner, a rather shocked and embarrassed looking Russia.

"Ah, America, I did not see you there." Russia started, taking a step back and shyly pulling the crushed metal frames from the sole of his boot. "Were these your glasses? It was an accident?" "An accident?" England screeched. "You clearly did that on purpose you buffoon!" Before Russia could whip out his favourite metal pipe and use it on England, America let out an anguished wail. " _My glasses!_ " He took the crushed frames from Russia and made a sad noise, like a half-sob.

England looked uneasy, as though he didn't know how to deal with this version of America, but he stepped forward cautiously and layed a comforting hand on America's shoulder. "Now, now, it will be okay. We can get you a new set of glasses." He tried for comforting words, but America only pouted more, looking slightly tearful. "No, I don't want another pair! I love this pair!" He rose to his feet looking rather angry and England faltered. "I don't know that we can fix those, lad." He flinched at America's hard glare and glanced at Japan for help. Japan took one look at the twisted metal frames and shook his head.

"It's impossible to fix them when they are like that!" China broke in, saying the words Japan did not want to say. America was now full on pouting, in a way England recognized from when America was young, usually followed by a tantrum. "You're lying!" He said childishly. "Canada will fix them for me!" A sigh was heard, and for the first time, England noticed the semi-visible country standing on his left. "What? Canada? When did you get here?" Canada muttered something that sounded a little like "I've been here the whole time" but it was drowned out by America's loud cry as he threw himself at Canada.

"Bro!" America whined, clinging to his brother. "My glasses are broken! Will you fix them?" he pitifully held out the crushed remains of the glasses to Canada. Instead of protesting, Canada smiled gently and took the frames, telling America to "wait just a moment." England watched closely to see how Canada would fix America's glasses that weren't much more than trash now. Canada turned his back to America, and from where England was standing, he could clearly see Canada pulling a new pair of glasses out of his glasses case and replacing them with the broken set.

Canada then slipped the glasses case back into his pocket, and then turned brightly to provide America with the replacement. "Here ya go!" Canada announce quietly, but clearly. "They're all fixed!" England sputtered in surprise. "But those aren't even the same -" He stopped himself as the usually gentle Canada sent him a murderous glare. " **Eh**?" America turned to look at him for a moment, innocently. "Didja say something, England?" England shook his head vehemently. "No, Nothing America, never mind!"

America happily polished his glasses before adding them to his face. "These glasses are special to me." He explained good naturedly. "Canada gave them to me as a personal gift when I went independent. He always repairs them for me." England fliched at the word 'Independent' and his stomach churned. "Come to think of it...I don't recall you ever needing glasses before then..." England noticed. "I guess I'm not the only one who was affected by that fight then." England felt himself puffing up a little with satisfaction at the idea that at least it wasn't just him suffering repercussions from that war.

"Huh? What are you saying, dude?" America asked loudly. "Its not like I need glasses now." He grinned. "I just wear 'em because I wanna!" There was a collective gasp of shock from all the countries present, and England nearly fainted. "You're saying you never needed glasses this whole time?" America' s grin was unaffected. "Well, yeah! And don't you think these glasses make me seem smarter too?" It was a good thing America couldn't see Canada rolling his eyes from behind his back, England managed to think, still feeling rather faint.


	3. England can make one dish really well?

"Ahh, Angleterre, what did you do to the fish?" France moaned mournfully, prodding at the golden brown deep-fried haddock. England bristled. "It's fish and chips! I'll have you know this is America's and Canada's favourite meal I make!" France gave England a pitying look. "It's true!" England snapped. He began to pout a little. "I'll show you." He picked up the phone and dialled America, placing it on speaker. France half heartedly moved to stop him, then decided against it. It would be better for England to to hear for himself directly from tthem, France decided. 

"Dude, sup?" America answered the phone loudly. England cleared his throat and threw France a look. "Hello America. It's just that I was making fish and chips for dinner and-" He got cut off by America's thrilled response. "Deep fried fish and French fries?" America interrupted. "Hell yeah! I'll get Canada, we're coming over!" He yelled to someone else in the room, sadly forgetting to take the phone away from his mouth. "Hey Mattie! England made our favourite!" There was a muffled thump, then a desperate grappling sound, and Canada's breathless voice took over. "It is true?" he demanded. "Did you make fish and chips?" 

England was practically puffing with pride. "I did, in fact." "Holy maple!" Canada sounded excited. "Fried fish!" America crowed in the background. There was a loud click and the phone hung up. France stared, mouth agape. America, perhaps, but Canada too? England saw Frances face and smirked. Even though he didn't say "I told you so" out loud, he didn't need to, his expression said it for him. France looked at the fried fish with a new look of wonder. Hesitantly, he picked up the fork and knife and cut himself a tiny piece.

England watched closely as France reluctantly placed the fish in his mouth, and Frances eyes widened at the taste. He stated at England in shock. "Angleterre," He said slowly, amazed, "This is not only edible, it is good!" England was so pleased to have his food complemented that he didn't even get offended at the way France said it. France took another bite and savoured the flavour, closing his eyes with pleasure. 

He was jerked back to reality by America slamming the front door open and barging in, Canada just behind him. England jumped. "How in the bloody hell did you get here so fast?" America carelessly pointing his thumb over his shoulder at Canada and explained "We rode a moose." As though that explained everything. England didn't have a chance to ask more, as America slid into a chair, slapped his hands on the table, and demanded loudly, "England, where my fish and French Fries?"

England muttered to himself "They're chips." as he began to serve up two more plates, while Canada provided the silverware. Soon, all four countries were seated together, eating happily, and England had never looked more happy, Canada, for once, did not drench his food in maple syrup, and America was eating slowly, savouring his meal instead of gulping it down. France savoured every bite of his fish, although he did not really care for these "chips" or "French fries" as America called them. France gave them a distasteful glance. Those were not French, he thought to himself.

He looked sadly at his plate, realizing that his fish was finished and gone, and sighed, partly from pleasure and partly from sadness that it was gone. "Angleterre," France spoke up, "You should make this for others, it is so good, everyone will love it for sure!" England didn't get the chance to respond, America banged his knife on the table and Canada dropped his and they both demanded "No way!" at the same time.

"England has to make this food only for us!" America demanded. "I don't want to share!" Canada agreed, childishly. They both turned their puppy dog eyes towards England, who sighed, although he was blushing. "It's as you see." He explained, unbothered, to France. "This is a meal I'll only make for family, after all." He rubbed his cheek, looking proud of himself, clearly not realizing he had boldly claimed France to be his family. France took a small bite of a chip to hide his own flush, and thought to himself that this was the best dinner he had ever had.


	4. France feels comforted by  Canada?

France left the meeting room in a huff, having just lost another argument with England. He tried to remind himself that England had always been this way since France first found him, and simply could not be honest with himself. Even so, France was still upset. He spotted America across the room, and decided to cheer himself up. When the other country turned around at the sound of his footsteps, France draped himself over his shoulders, arms hanging down the other countries back. France tucked his face in the crook of the other country's neck, and almost reached for the soft perky ass, but stopped.

His senses were all telling him the same thing. The gentle feel of the body as the other patted him softly on the back, the quiet way he had accepted France's hug, the scent of maple syrup faintly clinging to his collar, and even the fact he looked like America, all told France one thing. "Mmm, Canada." France murmured to himself, feeling very comfortable. "What's the matter, France?" Canada's voice was sweet and tinged with worry. "Oh, it is nothing." France dismissed his worries. "I am only grateful that I saw you."

France pulled back and looked Canada in the face, taking in the small, natural smile, the violet eyes, full of hope, and the one stray curl Canada could not seem to control. He tucked the curl lovingly behind Canada's ear." J'Taime, mon Cher, J'taime. " Canada flushed at this, and stated at his feet. "Oui." He murmured looking at his feet. "I love you too." He melted into the sudden hug as France pulled himin closer again. "Ah, Canada, you are still as cute as the day I first found you. Never change, mon Cher." 

Canada was gently, but forcibly jerked out of France's arms by a strong arms. "Hey, France, you pervert! Don't touch my brother!" "ohhonhon." France twittered, laughing at Canada's bewildered face and America's sharp glare. Somehow, the sharp feeling he had felt before was gone, and he felt calm and happy. He winked at Canada and Canada smiled back. France felt as though maybe, he could face England one more time and come out on top after all. Canada seemed to notice he felt better, and tilted his head, still smiling, and gave France a thumbs up.


	5. Sealand gets a Secret Birthday Present?

Sealand wasn't really expecting anything for his birthday. One of the things about not being officially accepted as a country is the fact none of the other countries can officially send birthday gifts. Although, one time Lithuania has slipped him some chocolate, as a personal gift when he heard it was Sealand's birthday.

Of course, his people would have the usual celebration with drinks and a grand feast, and the ceremonial letter sending, where Sealand would once again submit his request to be recognized as a real country, and all the people would clap and cheer. Every one of his people would speak to him and wish him a happy birthday, as there was a popular belief on the ship that If they spoke to the personification of the country on this day they would have good luck the next year.

Sealand loved his people, even if there numbers were smaller every year. After all, without them sealand wouldn't exist. But, he thought, it was a little lonely. After all, sealand dint grow or change, and was too much like the other countries to be truely accepted by the people. But he was also too much unlike the other countries to be accepted by them. In a way, Sealand was all alone. He had no place with the people and no place with the countries.

That's why he wasn't expecting anything for his birthday. No one would know or care that it was his birthday, since he wasn't a real country. Or at least, that's what Sealand had thought. When he saw the single orange rose and the small glass bottle of syrup of the table, his eyes grew wide as saucers. He thought that maybe there had been a mistake. A gift? For him? But he was Sealand! But the small colourful tag attached to the bottle of syrup clearly proclaimed in elegant writing: _Happy Birthday, Sealand!_

All of a sudden, Sealand felt like he could easily submit hundred requests to be recognized today. He felt like he had enough energy to great every one of his people cheerfully, like he could- his stomach growled loudly and Sealand eyed the syrup hungrily. He had just anough strength to make breakfast, he decided. So he made pancakes. As they cooked, he gently placed the rose in an empty jar, as he didn't have a vase. He couldn't help but stare at it, and his face kept breaking into a smile.

He wondered just what an orange rose meant. France would know, Sealand thought lazily. France always had roses. He poured the maple syrup of the steaming pile of pancakes, and stuck a single candle into the middle of the stack.

" _Happy birthday to me,_

_Happy birthday to me,_

_Happy birthday to Sealand,_

_Happy birthday to me."_

He sang softly to himself, and then squeezed his eyes shut and made a wish. "I wish I won't have to be so alone this year." And with that, he leaned forwards and blew out his candle, then eagerly dug into his food. "This is really good!" he said out loud. He began to think that this might be his best birthday ever.


	6. Canada is super unhealthy?

America slammed down his hands in the table, interrupting England's nagging. "Why do you always pick on me? Canada is just as unhealthy!" He argued back. England didn't look convinced, so America scowled. "When was the last time you ate at Canada's house? I'll show you!" With those words, he pulled out his phone and began dialling Canada, before England could protest.

"Hello?" Canada answered cautiously. "Yo, bro, it's me!" Canada sighed. "Hi America, how can I help you?" America smirked at England and decided to twist the truth a little. "England was saying how he would like to go to your place and try some Canadian food you know, so I was wondering if you would mind?" America didn't have to see his brother's face to know that Canada was beaming as he answered. "Of course! Come right over! I'll whip something up!"

....

England blanched at the bowl put in front of him. The golden fries were topped with a thick brown gravy, not at all like a thin, smooth, English gravy, and lots of cheese curds. Canada was beaming at him. " Go on, try it!" Reluctantly England took a bite, and he swore he could feel his arteries harden. He smiled painfully at Canada and said weakly "It's very good. Isn't there quite a lot of carbs though?" America boisterously laughed. "Yeah, I call it his 'heart-attack-in-a-bowl'." America laughed. "at least my fries with the works have vegetables in them."

While Canada pouted and America laughed, England quickly dumped the calorie-heavy meal into kumajiro dish. When Canada turned around, England was patting his lips with a napkin. _I'm sorry Canada,_ England thought, _but I can't eat that much junk food._ Canada looked thrilled to see his staple food gone so quickly, and America gave England a funny look. England blushed and looked away. America decided to ignore that and turned to Canada, demandingly, having finished his own poutine. 

"Mattie, dude, where are the chips?" " _chips?_ " England was dismayed. They had just had chips! Canada put several bowls on the table, and England remembered that for some reason, his two former colonies insisted on calling "crisps" "chips". Canada was describing the flavours happily. "These ones are ketchup flavored, these ones are all dressed and I got these from PEI," He guestured at a bowl "Theyre chocolate covered!" "They're _what?_ " Even America looked put off, looking a little queasy, but under his brother's sparkling gaze, he reluctantly took one and ate one. "These aren't too bad! " America decided, grabbing a handful. 

England tasted a ketchup chip, and instantly coughed into his napkin. His eyes watered painfully and he turned tearfully to Canada. "why are they spicy?" he asked. Canada looked surprised. "Eh?" "Only a prissy man like you would think ketchup is spicy!" America laughed. England pouted, pushing the chips away. "Well, that was a very good dinner," He began, lying through his teeth. Canada perked up. 

"Time for dessert!" Canada announced, disappearing into the kitchen and reappearing with a tray of sweets. He put it down in front of England. "I brought butter tarts, and Nanaimo bars, and of course, Beavertails!" Canada declared happily. England looked horrified. " _Beaver tails?"_ He repeated, a little queasily. Canada laughed. "It's just what I call this deep-fried dough with sweet spreads and candies or fruit on it." he explained. "Because it's shaped like a Beavertail." England finally realized what America had been trying to say earlier. Everything Canada had served him was extremely unhealthy.

Canada didn't seem to notice England's expression, and once again, disappeared into the kitchen in to reappear with a hot pot of amber liquid. "Since you're here," Canada explained with shinning eyes, "I thought we could make maple syrup candies together!" England smiled at this. It wouldn't be Canada without maple syrup. "What do you mean?" he asked simply. "Let's go outside!" Canada dragged England outside by the arm, and America trailed behind, a knowing smile on his face as he watched for England's reaction.

"See?" Canada explained, turning to England." You just pour the boiled syrup on the snow, and then use a stick to scoop it up-" He demonstrated, scooping the cooling syrup up on a stick." Like so! " He presented a stick to England as though it was a royal sceptre. England took it, agast. America had already eaten two and was working on his third, while Canada was on his tenth. England looked at the hardened syrup on a stick and spoke slowly. "Canada," he said as gently as he could. "Maybe you should consider going on a diet."

Canada dropped his stick of maple candy and turned pale as a ghost. For moment there was dead silence, then Canada collapsed in the snow and loud wail split the air.

"Nnnnnnnoooooooo!" 

America collapse too, from laughing too hard.


	7. America speaks in a southern accent when he's tired?

"America!" Canada hissed, waking the sleeping country. "Wake up! It's your turn!" America snapped awake with a yawn. "Huh?" Canada tutted. "Seriously, stop playing games so late! It's your turn! Go speak!" with gentle hands Canada shoved America to his feet, and America took the podium, still yawning. "thank y'all for waitin" America managed through his yawn. "Ah was up late playin' video games so ahm mighty tired." England tensed up with a look of irritation and Canada sighed. "This is why you need to sleep more." he muttered, although no one heard him.

America sleepily pulled out his notes and looked over them. "Anyway, as fah as global warmin', this heah," he turned on the projector to show a large picture of Canada and Russia standing in snow up to their knees "Ah have a ideah." he continued. "As Y'alls know, Russia's main export is snow an' vodka, an' Canada's main exports is snow an' maple syrup, so ah think if we jus' have them export snow ta bunch of place's that'r hawt, that'll just about do it ta stop global warming!" He finished his speach with yet another yawn, and for once no country said anything, not even a single "Who?".

Then finally, almost shakily, Germany raised his hand. "America - Vhat vas that?" America's head was already nodding again and he jerked it up. "Huh? What? Ya want me ta go over it agin?" He sighed but obliged. "So ah was thinkin' we ken jus' have Russia 'n' Canada heah send on over some of their snow, an' then-" Canada had been slowly counting down as America spoke, and as he reached one, England blew, jumping to his feet and slamming his hands on the table. "What's with that awful accent, you bloddly wanker?" England snapped. "I've told you time and time again to use proper English!"

America regarded England's outburst as though he was a cute child throwing a tantrum, and slowly responded. "Ah can't help it, ahm plumb tuckered out. No need to throw a hissy." England made a noise between an angry dog and a cobra spitting and threw himself out of his chair at America. Only Canada's quick reaction, due to the fact he had been expecting this, stopped England from fastening his hands around America's unprotected throat. France for once, made no attempt to stop England, which Canada suspected was due to the fact France had much the same reaction when Canada spoke his French around him.

By the time England calmed down and Germany managed to take control of the meeting again, the cause of all the fuss lay slumped over the podium in a deep sleep, softly snoring. If England hadn't tired himself out trying to murder America, he might have been tempted to try it again, if only for the fact that America had the nerve to sleep through it. But, due to the fact that Russia looked one wrong move away from murdering everyone in the room, and his own exhaustion, England decided he would let it go.

That is, until America muttered while still half asleep "s'okay, England, ah'll jus' microwave mah tea." 

This time, even Canada didn't try to stop England.


	8. England becomes dangerous if tea is made incorrectly?

Canada pulled a bottle of syrup out of his pocket and reached for the teacup. He stopped when he felt a bloodchilling aura. He raised his eyes and weakly met England's gaze. The dark aura surrounding England, the stiff way he held his crossed leg and his teacup, the tense line in his jaw, and the deadly glare he was giving Canada all set off warning bells in Canada's brain. He froze, knowing one wrong move could end his life. Finally England spoke, and his tone lowered the degree of the room several degrees. "Canada. What are you doing." He phrased it like a question, but said it like a statement. Canada managed a nervous smile. "I was just going to sweaten my tea." He offered weakly. England extended his picky finger in the direction of the sugar bowl, and without moving or taking his eyes off Canada and said sternly. "The sugar is right there."  
  
Canada hesitated. He sweetened everything with maple syrup. "I kinda thought I would just-" he began, his voice dwingling under England's glare. "Don't tell me you were going to add that wretched syrup to your tea?" England asked, and Canada suddenly wanted to hide. "N-no..." Canada gave way. "Good. Because anyone who would commit such a travesty against tea in my house would quickly learn to _deeply_ regret it." England's tone maintained a steady chill. "I'll use sugar." Canada said quickly, reaching for the sugar bowl. England relaxed, but not without a final warning. "No more than a teaspoon at most. Any more will ruin your earl grey." Canada bit back a protest. Canada liked his stuff almost overly sweet.

He decided against his protest and simply added a heaping teaspoon to his cup, which England frowned at, but let go. "Would you like some lemon juice for that?" England offered, back to his usual tone, now relaxed and calm sipping his tea. _Lemon juice?_ Canada threw a glance at him to see if he was joking. He didn't appear to be, so Canada simply said "no thanks." He sipped his tea and wondered if it be amiss to request milk, but decided he would rather drink it as then risk upsetting England. As Canada gently sipped his tea, casting cautious looks at England from time to time, his brother made his appearance. 

America came barging in, loudly as always, a spotted the tea pot on the table and promptly poured himself a cupful. Canada watched him reach fr the sugar bowl, wondering if he should perhaps warn him, but America had already dumped the whole sugar bowl into his cup. He then proceeded to down the rather thick mixture in one go. "Ah, that hit the spot!" He sighed with relief. "Coffe would be bet-" He was cut off by a loud bang. He threw himself backwards and barely avoided the bullet. "What the hell?" He said, throwing a wide-eyed glance at England, who was fuming, almost as much as the smoking pistol.

"HOW _DARE_ YOU TREAT TEA LIKE THAT?" England snarled angrily, cocking the gun again. The murderous aura was back, and stronger than before, and America stood like a deer in headlights in front of England's raging form. He met Canada's eyes from where Canada was cowering behind England's back, and Canada mouthed one word to him.

"RUN." America bolted for the door as England fired at his heels.


	9. There was a Spider at the world meeting?

The meeting was going on pretty much as it always did, noisily, but at least they seemed to be making progress. That is, until England's proper speech turned into a shrill shriek. Greece jerked awake, slamming his head on Turkey's head, which had been resting on his shoulder, waking him up too. All of the countries stared at England, who was now hiding behind America.   
  
"Australia!" England cried, half demandingly, half pleadingly. He pointed a finger accusingly at a large spider sitting on the podium, on top of his notes. "That's one of yours, isn't it?" America blanched at the huge spider and backed up several steps, while Canada conveniently disappeared. Italy burst into tears at the sight of it and hid behind Germany, who looked rather as though he'd like to keep that spider as far away as possible. Austria and France looked quite sick, and Prussian started bugging Spain to poke it with a stick.   
  
Switzerland had enough and slammed his hands on the table. "Well?" He demanded sensibly. "Someone should just kill it already!" Despite his strong words, he made no move to get closer to the spider, killing intent or not. "NOOOO!" Australia wailed, throwing himself forward and carefully gathering the spider in his bare hands. "This little bloke is cute and won't hurt anyone! " The spider, contrary to his words, then proceeded to bite him, causing his hand to instantly start swelling and turn red. For a moment, Australia didn't seem to notice, still beaming at the spider.   
  
Then New Zealand pointed a finger shakily at the affected area and weakly said. "Um, Australia, your hand is..." Australia glanced down at his hand, processing the information, then loudly swore. Within moments, Australia changed his whole demeanour. He threw the spider on the floor, and stomped on it mercilessly, then spat on it derisively.   
  
"What?" He asked, seeing England's horrified look. "I can always get a new one. And he deserved it, that bugger." He beamed again as though he hadn't just coldly disposed of something he had called cute moments before. England scolded him, brave in the absence of the spider. "I've told you time and time again, to leave your weird poisonous animals at your place!" Australia pouted. "It's just a small funnel spider. no need to throw a fit, mate."   
  
Egypt quietly offered Australia an ointment for his swollen hand, and Australia thankfully accepted. England pinched his nose and sighed. "at least there aren't anymore." he said. Australia froze while applying the ointment. England froze too, noticing this. " **There aren't any more, _right_ Australia?**" His tone was tense. Australia rubbed the back of his neck, guiltily.   
  
"Well, I can't just bring one, can I?" He said with a sheepish grin. "But its okay!" he defended before Switzerland lost it and shot him. "I have him here in his case!" He held up an empty case, and the smile faltered on his face as he noticed the open lid. "Ah."   
  
The meeting room descended into chaos. Above all the various screams, Switzerland's shooting, and the Italy brother's crying , was heard England's outraged voice. " _ **AUSTRALIA**_!"


	10. Canada fights back?

Canada had not been expecting the surprise attack coming from behind, but years of being bullied in retaliation against his brother had honed his instincts. He dodged the oncoming blow, and the rusty, slightly bloody metal pipe went through the wall where his head had been, leaving a hole in the drywall. He stared up at Russia, hovering over him, with a malicious aura leaking out.

"H-Hello there Russia!" Canada squeaked, shaking. Russia's metal pipe once again cracked the wall where Canada's head had been, saved only by Canada's deft ducking. "I'm Canada!" He yelped, "Not America!" Russia's glowering beam did not change, and he laughed, a little too harshly. "America, you are funny." with a splintering sound, Russia split the floor at Canada's feet. Canada danced away lightly, poised on his toes, ready for the next blow.

Russia titled his head. "I didn't know you were so fast America." He noted, but then continued in a blood chilling way. "Does not matter. You cannot run when I break your legs." Canada leapt as the heavy Iron pipe was aimed at his legs. "I. Am. CANADA!" He panted, but Russia wasn't listening. Canada watched his movements, trying to predict his next move. He began to realize, with a sinking heart, that no "Hero" was coming to rescue him this time.

It was fight or flight. And Russia was much, much faster than him, much, much bigger than him, and almost a thousand times more dangerous than he was. Turning his back was not an option, so flight was out. Canada steadied himself, switching from a defensive stance to an offensive stance. Fight it was. The moment it took to switch his stances cost him dearly. The pipe fell against his dominate leg with a crack, and Canada let out a soundless cry as he felt the bone snap. He stumbled, falling to the knee of his good leg, and then rolled, avoiding the next blow. 

The pain shooting up from his leg was awakening a different feeling inside him, a spirit more terrifying, more deadly than a wild polar bear, more strong, and more intimidating than a wild moose, and more vicious and persistant than a Canadian Goose. Canada felt a feeling begin to take over, and he moved swift, chopping Russia in the wrist as the other country lashed out with his weapon, and the L shaped pipe clattered to the ground.

Canada picked it up, and the moment his hands closed around the familiar shape, he felt confident, and unafraid. He grinned, and Russia stopped his attack to stare, unnerved, at the maliciously grinning country, dragging a broken leg, and armed with his own weapon. It didn't make sense to be grinning in this situation, and it scared Russia. A warning bell sounded somewhere in the back of Russia's head as Canada once again changed stance.

The half-crouched pose, the way he held the pipe, upside down, as though it were a golf club- _no that wasn't it._ Russia raked his brain, a tiny voice answered his question. _Like a hockey stick._ The alarm bells were louder now, and clearer, and Russia, never one to back down from a fight, steeled himself. Canada spoke, tone dripping with something akin to excitement - adrenaline. "Let's play." And before Russia fully processed what was happen, Canada swung the "hockey stick". 

........ 

"Oh, America, Russia was looking for you." Germany relayed the information to America as he walked by. "Ve~He looked mad!" Italy agreed, helpfully. Just then, China walked in the room. "Huh, America? Weren't you just fighting Russia in the hall?" America laughed. "What? No? Dude, you're so old your eyesight is going!" China scowled. "Well it looked just like you. It's not like you have a twin or something!" He tutted and stalked away. America froze, dropping his milkshake. He looked at Germany, and Germany's eyes were wide and scared. The answer came from them both in unison. "Canada." America swore loudly and bolted for the hall, desperately.

Italy peered anxiously into Germany's pale face. "It's okay Germany!" He encouraged, uncertainly. "America will save Canada from Russia!" Germany sank into his chair, weakly. "You don't understand." Germany told Italy, trying to calm the shaking in his legs caused by the memory of the last time he fought Canada. "America isn't saving Canada from Russia." Italy's eyes opened wide, revealing his rarely seen amber eyes at Germany's next sentence. "America is saving Russia from Canada."


	11. America has nightmares about England...'s cooking?

America woke up, screaming, in a cold sweat. He could vividly remember the feeling in his dream, a nauseous, sickening feeling. He remembered the way his eyes had rolled back in his head, the feeling as though his tongue had turned to lead and his stomach had been filled with poison, but most of all, the feeling of abject terror. He gripped his arms with his shaking fingers tightly to make sure they weren't spasming like in the dream, and swung his legs out of bed, testing to see if they could hold his weight. Finding his legs did, in fact, work properly, and had not turned to jelly like in the dream, he walked into the bathroom and gargled some mouthwash, desperately trying to gt rid of the bad taste left me the dream.

The bad taste didn't seem to fade from his mouth, so he gulped some mouthwash down, shuddering. His heart was going a thousand miles an hour from the memory, and when he closed his eyes he could see the scene playing out like a movie on the backs of his eyelids, and America felt the need to puke urgently. Finally, he did something he only did when he was very upset, and with shaking fingers, dialled the phone. 

Canada picked up on the third ring even though it was only 2am, with a grouchy "What?" America licked his lips and tried to speak. When his words came out, his voice was low, and trembling. "Mattie..." With this one word, Canada seemed to wake up instantly. "That dream again?" America nodded tearfully, forgetting Canada couldn't see through the phone, but his brother seemed to understand. "You always get this dream around this time of year.." America could hear the creaking as his brother sat up in bed, fully awake, and preprinh to tlk his brother through his nightmare. 

"I'm scared." America admitted, in a quieter voice than even Canada's. Canada's brotherly instics kicked into gear, and he soothed America gently. "It'll be okay. We won't let him do that to you ever again. France and I will make it ourselves, so trust us." Alfred still felt as though someone had jamed rotten eggs mixed with rotten fish and gasoline down his throat with a molten metal rod, and he swallowed, trying to get rid of the taste.

Canada went a step farther, attempting to be the mediator. "You'll be okay." Canada promised, continuing. "It's not like Britain did it on purpose, he had good intentions." America's lower lip trembled. "You don't understand." He whispered, pitifully, and a little spitefully. "He doesn't do this to you." America could tell he struck a nerve by the slight intake of breath on the other end of the phone, and felt a little guilty for the feeling of spiteful satisfaction he got from it.

"America, its not like I want to be constantly forgotten." Canada said in a light scolding tone, but there was an undertone of deeper feelings in his words. Canada took a deep breath, as though to calm himself and continued. When his brother spoke, his voice was understanding, although there was a slight tension to it. "Listen, forget about that time. Just trust me, even if you don't trust anyone else. Just believe in me when I say that this year is going to be your best birthday ever, and I will _never again_ let Britain make the cake."

America sniffled, then smiled a tiny smile. "Thanks Mattie." His brother grunted in a non-commital way. "So can I go back to sleep now?" America snickered a little, lightly, and answered "Yeah, go back to sleep, rest up, you'll need it for your party later." If Canada hadn't already fallen back asleep, he may have hear his brother's gentle "Happy birthday!" before he hung up.

America padded to his bed and slipped into it, as a thought occurred to him. Since he had eaten the cake first, Canada hadn't touched it, so, in a way, America had saved his brother, hadn't he?" America grinned at the thought. "After all, I am the hero." He thought to himself as he drifted back to sleep, to dream of protecting a fragile and weak Canada from a giant food monster England accidently summoned while cooking.


	12. America refuses to switch back with Canada?

"That's it, Alfred!" Canada demanded, pointing furiously at his twin. "I agreed to switch for a couple days with you because you said you were feeling stressed, but it's already been over a week! I want my life back!" America yawned, leaning back in his chair and tossing some ketchup chips in his mouth. "No way dude." He responded carelessly. "People are nice to me for no reason when they think I'm you. Cuba talks to me, France doesn't try to grope me, and almost everyone ignores me, which I love because I always fight with at least one country every time we meet." He licked the ketchup off his fingers. "Besides, do you know how many times I've been insulted since I switched with you?" America continued enthusiastically. "Zero!" He supplied the answer without waiting for Canada's response. America kicked his feet up on Canada's coffee table.

"Dude, I wish I could be you forever!" "You can't!" Canada cried, on the verge of tears. "I don't want to be you forever!" He wiped at his eyes with his bandaged hands. "When I'm you, everyone sees me and it's nice, but even when I speak they ignore my ideas, and China insulted me for no reason earlier and he's not the first! And even though I haven't had a hamburger in ages everyone keeps bringing them up, and saying I'm going to get fat, and Britain is so hard on me and I know he only scolds us because he cares but my hair isn't messy so-"Canada broke off his babbling as he saw a flash of something in America's eyes. He hesitated for a moment, then continued weakly." And I'm pretty sure Lithuania has figured out we're not the same person..." He trailed off, noticing his brother's shoulders droop, as he seemed to fold in on himself.

Canada sighed loudly. "I guess I can be you for a little longer." He yielded, and America instantly seemed to perk up. "Only until France notices!" Canada was quick to warn. "Thanks bro! You're the best!" America threw himself full force at Canada, catching him in a bear hug. Canada couldn't help but smile at this. "Well, I do love hanging out with Japan, he's so cool, and it's nice to be noticed and cared for by Britain all the time, even if he scolds me. Besides, it's nice to be the country everyone envies, even if they insult me all the time." Canada gave in. America pouted." I'm still the hero,even when I'm you!" He defended, still clinging to Canada. Canada patted his brother on the back, comfortingly. 

"Of course, Al, you're alway the hero to me, no matter who you act like." America's eyes widened at this information. Canada pried his brother off him. "I want my place clean when I come back, don't turn it into a pigsty!" He demanded. "And please don't upset any of my friends like Cuba and don't pick any fights with the Netherlands, okay?" He frowned as he thought of something. "Wait, did you say France groped you?" A dangerous aura formed around Canada and he cursed in French. He threw a glance at America, and America flinched at the look on his face. "You don't mind if I beat the shit out of him while I'm you, do you?" He asked, and America weakly shook his head. "But will you be okay with that?" America asked cautiously. "Aren't you really close?"

Canada cracked his knuckles. "I don't care who it is, no one picks on my little brother!" America was touched for a second, then he frowned. "I'm the big brother, I gained independence first!" "No, I am," Canada argued, finding America's baseball bat for his upcoming fight. He found the bat and swung it testingly with a glint in his eye. "Britain said I'm older because I learned the alphabet first!" America wanted to argue, but knowing England, it was exactly the kind of thing he might say. America opened his mouth, an argument on the tip of the tongue, when Canada turned to him, almost excitedly. "I'm going to beat up France, if you need me! "

America swallowed his argument as he watched Canada slam the door behind him. After all, his brother was doing so much for him, he may as well let him think he's older. Because that's what heros do. He sat back down on the couch feeling slightly comforted. A week later, after a lot of complaining and cajoling from Canada, and yes, a little threatening, America finally switched back. He noticed France didn't touch him anymore, and instead stayed far away from America, as his leg was still in a cast and his head was still bandaged. He also noticed a lot of the other countries were nicer to him then before, and England actually listened to his ideas before denouncing them.

Canada noticed he was noticed more, and that the countries that tended to bully him had stopped. The other countries noticed that something was different about America sometimes, but they couldn't say exactly what. Only France knew, but he wouldn't say anything, even if Canada hadnt threatened him. After all, he wanted them both to be happy. And every now and then, Canada becomes more noticeable and America is a little nicer, and maybe both of them wink at each other from across the room, and in a few days or weeks, everything goes back to normal, and everything is okay.

Because that's what big brothers do.


	13. America is held hostage?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fictional war

America pulled half-heartedly at the ropes holding him to the chair. "Did you really have to go this far?" He complained, but his voice only edged on annoyance, nowhere near the anger he should be feeling right now. "It can't be helped." Germany shrugged. "I need your brother to come out of hiding." He threw a look at the North American in the chair, legs splayed lazily in front of him, an almost bored look on his face. The bonds were tight enough to hold him, but not to hurt him. 

"Just be glad we're holding you hostage to Italy's standards. As you know, my boss prefers a rougher way." Germany said shortly, wryly remembering how most captives are treated. America actually laughed at this. "Dude, as if you could hurt me!" Germany was a little concerned about how laid back America was. You'd almost think that he was just a guest over for a snack rather than a captive. Italy patted America on the head, as though he were a dog. "It's okay America!" Italy said happily. "Once Canada come out of hiding to save you, we'll let you go!" 

America thought about this for a moment. "I dont think this is a good idea." He warned. Germany frowned. "Maybe so, but we have no other choice. We need Canada to join the war or we will lose." 

"Okay, but-" America began to point out the obvious flaw in their plan. Something large exploded in the distance, and the soldiers voiced were loud and hurried, then just as quickly went quiet. Germany rushed to the window and stared with wide eyes as yet another tank blew up. America ignored the commotion as though he was used to it - no, as though he was _expecting_ it. America continued his thought, carelessly. "Even if he joins the war, you kidnapped me."

As another explosion sounded, nearer than before, Germany turned to America, his eyes widening with realization. "What makes you think he'll be on your side?" America finished with a smirk. The next explosion happened right outside the door, and the Germany turned to release America, but America was no longer tied to his chair. "What-" Germany turned at the familiar cry. "Italy!" The other country crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

"You were tied up!" Germany accused, painfully aware of the enemy getting ever closer outside the door, and the now-free enemy inside the room. America laughed again, the same carefree laugh as earlier, as he sized up Germany. "I untied myself a long time ago. Italy sucks at keeping prisoners contained." He stretched, popping his neck. Germany's responding curse was drowned out by a large bang. "Aand.. That would be the door." America commented.

He stepped over Italy's limp firm and grasped a brick, pulling it cleanly out of the wall, leaving a gaping hole. He weighed the brick in his hand, then met Germany's eyes. "It's best if you don't fight." He warned. "I'm doing this to save you." The sound of footsteps running down the hall ways obvious now, and Germany realized that America was right. Even so, it took all his strength to not dodge or block the oncoming blow.

Germany's body slumped to the floor as the door to the room they were in blasted open. Canada burst into the room, bloddied and carrying the smell of gunpowder, smoke, and gasoline. "America!" America turned to see his frenzied brother, eyes wide and feral, a vicious growl ringingbin his tone. America grinned, holding out his arms. "I'm fine, Canada!" He had to take a step back to steady himself as his brother launched himself into his arms.

"Sorry I took so long." Canada murmured in his typical fashion, his eyes already turning less feral. America grinned. "Bro, I could hear you coming from miles away, did you destroy every tank in the German army?" Canada pulled out of his brothers arms, and began inspecting him for injuries. "I don't know about miles," He said distractedly. "I only measure in kilometres. Also, I didn't just destroy the tanks." America felt a chill run through his bones at the casual way Canada said his next words.

"I destroyed the whole army."


	14. America has an evil clone?

England pointed the gun tremulously at the pair, wavering between the two of them. "One of you is America, and one of you is a fake."

Canada half hid behind his brother, nervously. America sighed. "England, dude, If you shoot Canada I'm gonna be pissed." Canada whispered something that may or not have been cursing, and America positioned himself more in front of his brother. "Don't you dare shoot him." He warned.

England wavered his gun towards America, sweating. "America would never be so selfless!" Canada jumped in front of America, arms outstretched. "No! I wont let you shoot America!" His voice was loud for once, and he stood firm, despite the obvious trembling in his fingers. 

_Aha!_ England thought to himself. _That proves it! America can't resist being the hero!_ _"_ Move and I'll shoot him!" He demanded, trying to aim the gun behind Canada. 

"I won't!" Canada wailed. "Please stop!"   
England was thoroughly confused.  
"America doesn't say please."

England was uncertain. He knew that only one of them was America, but he couldn't tell which. He could shoot them both, but he didn't want to hurt America.   
  
He tried again. "Who wants to get hamburgers?" He asked uncertainly.  
"DUDE!" America snapped, unimpressed. "YOU'RE POINTING A GUN AT US! WE DONT WANT BURGERS!"  
  
Canada fidgeted, shifting from foot to foot.  
"J-just shoot me" He offered nervously, cringing. "I probabaly won't die."  
  
 _What?_ England almost lowered the gun.  
  
Ameirca glared at England. "Try it and my revolution wont be your worst trauma." He warned.   
  
England was panicking. He knew for certain that America's clones was evil, vicious, but neither of the two standing in front of him fit that criteria. If he let them go, who knows what the evil clone might do?  
  
He cocked the gun, hands shaking crazily. He would just have to shoot both-he would injure them, not kill them, then he could interrogate them more to find out which was which.   
  
He raised the gun, and the door flew open and France poked his head in. "Amerique, Have you seen Canada?"   
  
He stopped, noticing the two together.   
"Ah! mon garcons, there you are." He threw his arms around them both and planted a kiss on Canada's forehead.  
  
America was too busy glaring at England to push France away and a kiss was administered to his forehead as well.  
France followed America's gaze and noticed England, tremulously pointing the gun.   
"Ah, Angleterre, what are you doing?" France's tone held more confusion then worry.   
  
England was trying not to cry. "Get away from them, Frog!" He warned, "One of them is an evil clone!"  
  
France tutted loudly at this. "Your jokes have gone too far." he shook his head, but his eyes had a warning in them. "This is America and his twin, Canada. Have you already forgotten?" He laid a gentle hand on the shoulder of each boy.   
  
England lowered his gun. He had a faint memory of two North America's growing up, then the revolution, then just one left...  
The gun clattered to the floor. "Canada?" He said unsteadily.  
  
Then the realization hit him. "What have I done?" He dropped to the ground, shaking. For a moment, everything was silent, and America, Canada, and France stood silently, each staring at England with a different expression.   
  
Then the door slammed open once more and somone who _looked_ like Canada and America walked in, except America had dark brown hair, and Canada had long hair tied back in a pony tail.  
  
The pair were loudly arguing. "Cuz youre a fucking vegan." Not-Canada said crankily.   
"Suck my dick you maple loving moose-fucker." Replied Not-America.  
  
America bopped a fist on his palm as he remebered something.  
"Oh, right! I forgot why this happened in the first place!"   
He pointed to the pair." England, that's my evil clone! And Canada's!" He added as an afterthought.  
  
Not-Canada and Not-America turned to stare at England. "What?" Not-America sneered. "Gonna shoot us?"  
  
England fainted.


	15. England and Prussia Swap Bodies?

It would be hard to say exactly who was to blame for this situation. It was true that Prussia had come slamming into him top speed because he wasn't looking where he war running, but the little voice inside England guiltily whispered that he was at fault too, for practicing his magic in the middle of the hallway. England however, decided to ignore that voice. "What the bloody hell were you thinking!" He demanded, almost hysterically, whirling on Prussia. "Dude, this is so not awesome!" Prussia declared, jumping to his feet in a slight panic. 

"Who's fault do you think it is?" England snapped, looking down at Prussia, which he could now do at his height. Prussia was not paying attention, furrow ing his bushy brows. "It's not my fault!" Prussia complained, stopping to once again check out his reflection in the mirror. "You ran into me!" England argued, slightly distracted by his sudden urge to go get a drink. "How was I supposed to know we'd swap bodies?" Prussia argued back, turning to face England. 

It was odd to hear Prussia rapsy voice coming from his body, and weirded still to see the strange way Prussia chose to stand in his body. Not at all in the proper British way, leaning more on one leg in a strange casual way, while still managing to look like he was standing at attention. If Prussia thought it was odd to hear England's ~~hysterical~~ proper British accent from his body, he didn't show it, too busy panicking about the situation.

"Crap, look at the time!" Prussia barked, and England realized what he was about to do a spilt second before he did it. "Gotta go, West is cooking wurst for dinner!" "Wait-" England lurched forward, but Prussia was already running away, still in England's body. "Come back!" England yelled after him. "I haven't switched us back yet!" Prussia didn't hear him.

"Hey West!" Germany didnt need to turn to look to know who had just slammed the door behind him. The bathroom tap ran, briefly, and there was a scraping noise as his older brother slid into his chair. "Is it done?" Prussia demanded, and Germany sighed. "Ja, it's done. Just wait a moment." He quickly dished up the sausages onto two plates, not even glancing at his brother as he put the plate down, knowing Prussia would whine if it took too long. "Here, eat." Germany sighed popping down into his seat. "What the hell?" Prussia's raised voice drew Germany's attention for the first time. "It tastes wierd!" Prussia complained, smacking his lips as though he couldn't decide if he liked the flavour or not.

There was a beat of silence, then Germany lept to his feet, pushing the chair back. " _England?_ " "Huh?" Prussia froze for a moment. "What?" Germany faltered. "You okay West?" England's signature bushy eyebrows drew together in concern. "Wait, brother?" Germany realized, confused. Prussia realized what the issue was and burst out laughing in his trademark "Kesesesese" and Germany knew without a doubt that it was Prussia, despite his eyes cleary saying it was England. "What?" Germany demanded again.

Prussia didn't have the chance to respond as suddenly there was a loud banging sound from the door, and England's proper tone scolded, "Prussia! Give back my body!" Prussia was out of his seat and yanking open the door in seconds. "What the hell did you do to the awesome me!" Prussia demanded, for the first time exhibiting signs of panic. "My wurst tastes all wrong!" He wailed, and England fought the urge to wallop him upside the head. " _I_ didn't do anything!" England argued. "It's because _you_ ran into me!" Germany finally understood what had happened, and pinched his fingers over the bridge of his nose with a groan. 

"Please just fix him." Germany pleaded. "that was my intention." England sniffed, grabbing Prussia's wrist. "Hey, what?" Prussia squirmed, uncomfortable with the sudden touch. "The spell requires physical touch!" England muttered back, a little miffed, and then drew his wand out of his jacket pocket. This was an awkward procedure, since his jacket was currently on the body Prussia was currently in. Before any further complaints could be made, England swished the wand with a command, and then he suddenly felt nauseated. 

Prussia too, looked about to hurl, his hand on his mouth, his red eyes looking disoriented. Wait-Red eyes? England realized thst we no longer looking at himself, and turned with a pleased expression to examine himself in the window. Prussia, as soon as the nasuea had passed, rushed to the table and stuffed the sausage into his mouth with moan of pleasure. "It's so good!" Prussia cried, literally, a tear glittering in the corner of his eye. Moments later an argument broke out about England's tastebuds, and was quickly ended by Germany tossing the intruder out the door, but not before England got one deadly scone forced down Prussia's throat. 

Prussia swore revenge. 


	16. Switzerland is forced to take anger management classes?

"I don't need anger management classes!" Switzerland snapped, slamming his hands on the table. Honestly he wouldn't have been their if Litchenstien hadn't insisted, saying she was worried about his health. He had tried to explain that he didn't have anger management problems, everyone else was just really good at irratating him, but it had no effect, and he had finally agreed to take the class. Unsurprisingly, Switzerland did not feel any closer to managing his anger, and much closer to murdering everyone else in the room. 

  
At his outburst the rest of the group stopped arguing to look at him. Greece, sleeping on a desk at the front, where he was supposed to be teaching, briefly woke up. For a moment the group was silent, then Romano snickered. "Sure!" Romano mocked, "Nobody here does!" He jabbed a finger over his shoulder. "England's not here because he tried to strangle France, Russia is not a _complete psychopath_ , and I'm all daisies and buttercups!" He said, growing more sarcastic with each word.  
  
Russia beamed as though he wanted nothing more to be in anger management class with a bunch of hot-tempered countries, but the ever-growing dark aura surrounding him said otherwise. "You have a problem with Russia?" He asked, brandishing his metal pipe, and Romano turned pale, hiding behind Germany. "Protect me, you potato bastard!" He demanded, shaking. Germany didn't make a move, still working hard on the "drawing that makes you happy" that Greece had instructed them to work on at the start of the class, before he fell asleep. Germany had said he was their to "become more controled and stricter." though Switzerland wasn't sure that was possible.   
  
Russia was still smiling threatening l'y behind his metal pole, and England wouldn't stand for it. "You're not allowed to bring that here!" England ordered firmly, which would have been more effective if he wasn't as far away as possible from Russia as the small room would allow. "Hmm? You will stop me?" Russia asked, getting more and more threatening by the moment. "I'm not afraid of you!" England blurted, drawing out a wand and pointing it at Russia. It fired a beam of light, nearly hitting Romano, and the smaller country had enough. 

Romano reached for the nearest thing to throw, which just so happened to be a plate of England's unpalatable scones. The scone missed England and lodge in the wall behind him, cracking the wall without so much as crumbling. Switzerland made a mental note not to eat one of those, ever. England responded with an outraged cry as Romano insulted his food, and a misplaced spell hit Greece, transforming him into a cat, though he remained asleep. 

A flying scone nearly hit Russia, but was batted away with his metal pipe, hitting Germany - still ignoring everyone else- in the back of the head, knocking him completely unconscious. 

Switzerland was getting more and more irritated by the moment, as well as a bit fearful for his life. "I'm not staying here!" he decided, making a hasty beeline for the door. "I'm going home!" He announced, slamming the door behind him. A moment later he heard a suspicious thudding noise as though Russia has used his favorite metal pipe to put an end to the fight.

"Big brother, what's wrong?" Litchenstien flew to her feet, rushing to his side as he got home. "You're back early." Switzerland sighed at the memory. "Class was cancelled. Permanently." He decided, and Litchenstien looked disappointed. "Oh." She said softly. "Wait, I have something for you." Switzerland held out a folded piece of paper. "Our assignment was to draw something that made us happy." He flushed a little, not meeting his sister's eyes. "This is for you." Without waiting to see her reaction he briskly pushed past her. "I'm going to make lunch." 

Moments later he was tackled in the back by Litchenstien. "Thank you big brother!" She declared happily. "I'll treasure it." If Austria found it strange that Switzerland had a picture of mochi Litchenstien and him in a frame on the wall when he visited, he wisely decided not to say anything. Which was probably for the best since Switzerland'anger management class had been cancelled due to lost of the members being severely injured, and the teacher refusing to be turned back into a person.


	17. America throws Russia a birthday party?

America _loved_ throwing birthday parties. He loved arranging the food, the fireworks, the decorations, he loved writing out the invitations and picking the location. He loved his parties so much that he tried to extend tham as much as possible, even to the day after, and was known to sulk once the party was over, until his northern neighbour came over to help clean up the mess and nudge America to his feet with promises of "next time". This time, though, America was not sulking, and had already cleaned the mess from yesterday away, bouncing on his heels.

A friend of his, Lithuania, had told him a sad story, about someone who never had a birthday party, or at least not a proper one, and though it might be late, America was determined to throw him the best party ever. He was writing invitations when Canada stopped by, amazed at the lack of sulking and mess, and soon enough, his brother was sent off to deliver them. It hadn't taken America long to pick a location, or decide who to invite. He knew that Russia didn't get along with all the people he did, so that narrowedthe picks a little, and in the end, America had gone with inviting the allies, the baltics, and Russia's sisters and a few choice others, like India, one of Russia's closest friends. America took the liberty of not inviting some countries he didn't particularly like.

The RSVP's came back quickly, almost all positive. America's party invitations wasn't something easy to decline, both because they were incredibly fun, and because America was incredibly annoying if you declined. Only Latvia denied the invitation, claiming he would be sick that day and unable to come. Estonia had also considered declining, but thanks to Lithuania's efforts, had agreed to "stop by for a short while" sometime during the day. Everything was going well. 

It was Belarus and Ukraine who got Russia to the location, with only a little pleading on Ukraine's side and a lot of time on Belarus's side convincing him that this time she was _not_ taking him to a chapel to get him to marry her. Russia had known something was wrong immediately, as soon as he entered the dark room hearing the shuffling of nations hidden in the dark, and he readied his metal pipe. It was also Belarus who protected America from getting his face slammed by Russia's metal pipe when the lights suddenly flicked on and America popped out from nowhere shouting "Surprise!" although she looked to instantly regret it. 

Russia had froze, eyes narrowed, looking less than pleased, his eyes narrowed and showing a dangerous light reminicenent of the cold war. America pretended not to notice, slapping Russia happily on the back with a rowdy laugh. "Dude! Look happier! It's your birthday party after all!" Russia stared, first registering the words, then the ballons and decorations and food. "My birthday party?" He asked wonderingly, eyes round with shock. "But America, my birthday was last month?"

America frowned. "Yeah, well it might be late but we still wanted to celebrate your birthday." His grinned popped back into place on his face. "After all, it's kinda sad you've never had a birthday before!" Russia beamed, but his eyes told America he still wasn't sure if he was insulted of complemented. "Enjoy it," Advised India, helping himself to some snacks. "We all gathered to celebrate because we're glad you're here, after all." Russia's eyes got rounder, his mouth forming an "O". "You're happy... I'm here?" He turned to America, then Lithuania for confirmation, and both flashed him a smile in response.

Russia brought an arm to his face for a second, in case any tears escaped, then dropped it once he calmed himself. This was when Ukraine brought out the star of the show, the cake. "Look!" She said excitedly, "We made a cake with you on it!" Russia's feelings plummeted at the look of the large empty expanse of white on the cake, punctuated only by a lonely figurine of Russia made out of fondant. It reminded him of his lonely childhood. Ukraine pulled something out of a cooler and placed it on the cake. A mini fondant Ukraine. Belarus followed suit and suddenly it was not just them but everyone, a fondant America making a hero pose, a fondant Estonia with a computer and a fondant Lithuania beside the fondant Belarus. Before Russia could fully register the cake was covered in fondant versions of all Russia's friends and family, even a tiny Latvia added by Estonia for the absentee.

All of a sudden a candle was placed in the cake and shoved under Russia's nose, as America demanded he "Blow it out and make a wish!" Russia hesitated for a moment, taking in the anticipating looks of the other party members, the smiles that everyone wore for once, even France and England weren't bickering at this moment, and then with a single deep breath, blew out the candle. 

_I wish next year will be the same again._

Then America broke out the fireworks, Russia broke out the vodka, and the party began.


	18. Russia doesn't like birthday parties?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***I know it's a bit boring, but here's the prequel to the last chapter. I wrote it to give myself a background for the story, and I wasn't originally gonna post it, but then I was like... I already wrote it so why not? Enjoy! 

Russia didn't like birthday parties. He didn't like the crowds of people, the chattering, milling around, the constant snacking, anything about the general rowdiness of the place. He especially didn't like America's birthday party, where he set off huge red, white and blue fireworks and the crowd was twice as loud as at other parties. At one point a table full of snacks exploded when England accidently knocked over a firework while grappling with France.

America had _laughed._ Not in the way Russia would have laughed, as though to say "You will regret this later" but in a way that said he truly thought watching chips and cupcakes splatter everywhere was funny. Russia did not think it was funny. At his house, birthdays were quieter, just him and his siblings. There was present giving, cake, and of course, a sister pulling on his ears in Russian tradition. There was no exploding snack tables, and a lot more vodka. Russia wiped the frosting from his cheek and stormed outside, intending every bit to go home. He wasn't even sure why he ever came.

"Mr. Russia?" Lithuania's familiar voice called out, and Russia was so surprised that he called out that he actually stopped. "Are you alright?" Lithuania's servant side was emerging, or maybe he was always like this, Russia thought, as the other man wiped some frosting and splintered chips off Russia's shoulder with a handkerchief. "I am fine." Russia muttered, but he was so shocked that Lithuania would care for him without being forced that his words lacked his usual growl. Lithuania noticed and gave Russia a hard, searching stare.

"I do not like birthday parties." Russia felt compelled to explain, waving a hand towards the festivities. "I have never had one like this." He added bitterly, unimpressed as there was a large sound of something else breaking, and another raucous laugh from America. Lithuania tilted his head to the side as Russia turned heel and left, knowing Russia's birthday had been only last month. Lithuania hadn't been invited. Now he was wondering if anyone had. Even when the Baltic trio used to live at Russia's house, the "parties" were tense and the atmosphere was thick. There was very little laughing and enjoying the day because of all the stress the nations were under.

An idea occurred to Lithuania, and he sought out the star of the party, knowing his friend America would be the only one who could put his plan into action.


	19. Canada is predictable?

"Hey." America greeted, squishing into the small space with Canada. "Move over." Canada obediently scooted over. "How did you find me?" He asked pitifully, rubbing his eyes. America laughed. "Matiie, you've hidden in the same spot whenever you were mad since we were kids. It's would be weirder if I didn't find you!" Canada pouted. "You and Britain never found me back then." He muttered, spitefully.

America gave him a strange look. "England never found you? Why do you think that?" Canada was getting frustrated again. "Well, he always walked right by me, and would always loudly complain how he couldn't find me, then he'd set up his stupid table and have a tea party right... in front..." He trailed off. America was grinning again.

"Oh dear" America mimicked England's posh tone. "Where-ever could Canada be? I simply don't know!" Canada's jaw fell open. "He knew all this time?" he demanded. America rolled his eyes. "No, he just _happened_ to set up his afternoon tea only a few feet away from where you were hiding." He said sarcastically. "It wasn't so he could keep an eye on you and make sure you were okay or anything."

America dragged Canada out of the hole. "Hey, come here for a sec." He pulled Canada over to where England would have his afternoon tea, and pushed Canada into the chair. "Al, what-" Canada started, but stopped as America pointed. "Look!" he said. Canada did, then turned red. The hollow in the bushes where he had thought he was hidden was painfully obvious from the slight hill the table was set up on, and he could instantly tell that anyone hiding there would be completely exposed to someone from this vantage point.

"Why didn't you ever tell me!" He cried pitifully to America. America shrugged half-heartedly. "I thought it was funny." He said off handedly. "You're such a jerk!" Canada snapped, banging his fists weakly on America's chest. America only laughed at the weak blows.

"Not that it matters to me, but shouldn't you make up with England, bro?" America continued, ignoring Canada's feeble blows. "Its just, he looked kinda upset." he gestured the slumped form of England, his face the picture of dejected. America wasn't surprised when Canada took off running down the hill towards him. 

"I'm sorry Britain!" Canada burst out, flinging himself into England's arms. "I didn't mean it, I could never hate you!" He buried his head into England's shoulder and cried as England patted his back saying "There now, it's alright I forgive you. I should have paid attention to you."

Eventually England and Canada pulled apart, and Canada stood looking sheepishly at America. "Thanks." he said quietly, pulling America into a quick hug. "If it wasn't for you telling me how upset he was, I would never have come to make up with Britain." 

America decided not to mention that he and England had been playing out this exact same scene for Canada ever since he was child whenever he got upset, or that Canada fell for it every time. England winked at him over Canada's shoulder.


	20. Russia and France do ballet?

Russia and France had been. Too close lately, and it was bugging America. His suspicion only grew when France denied it when America confronted him. Did France really think America didn't notice when France would sneakily pass a folded paper to Russia when he passed, or how France seemed to always excuse himself from meetings right after Russia left? Even England had noticed, though he was happy as long as France wasn't bothering him.

America was going to get to the bottom of it. He started with his friend Lithuania, determined to coax the truth out of him. Lithuania gave him a wide-eyed look that told America that he knew exactly what was going on, but Lithuania evaded the question.

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, America. You should forget about it." 

The awkward way Lithuania spoke, as well as the way he shifted from door to foot as though he'd rather be anywhere else but there betrayed his lie. America narrowed his eyes. If that was how it was going to be, so be it. He cornered Latvia, the smallest and most timid of the baltics, for his interrogation. For a moment, Latvia didn't seem to understand, and America thought maybe he wouldn't know anything, but then a look of understanding dawned on Latvia, and with it, a look of horror.

"I don't know anything!"

Latvia wailed, dissolving into tremors, eyes wide with horror. America pressed harder, but to no avail. Despite all his cajoling, coaxing, bribing and threatening, Latvia remained more fearful of Russia than America. Finally, America gave up in disgust. The only option left was to follow Russia and France and find out what was going on himself.

The next time France slipped from a meeting, America waited for Russia to go too, and followed after, as sneakily as he could. He managed to track them downtown when suddenly he lost sight of them. It didn't take long to locate France again, with his flashy outfit, but Russia was nowhere to be seen. The next thing America knew he was be in ng slammed against the wall and a cold pipe was pressed against his throat. 

"Friend America, I wonder why you are spying on me?"

Russia asked pleasantly, excluding an aura that suggested he may like to beat America's head in. That didn't bother America one bit, as he was used to it. 

"Nah, dude, I wasn't spying!" 

He denied, laughing awkwardly. Russia narrowed his eyes, suspicious, but let America go.

"Good. We do not want another cold war, da?" 

America had no choice but to retreat. Canada didn't understand why he had to entertain his sulking brother, but let him in anyways as America ranted.

"And If they're planning the start something, I won't be taken by surprise! The United States of America won't be defeated by anyone! By the way, bro, can I count on you to help me if they attack? You won't help France just cuz you're close, right?" 

Canada blinked at the sudden question, completely bamboozled by his brother's words. He understood that it had something to do with Russia and France, and possibly America was expecting a fight, but more than that was beyond him.

"If _who_ attacks?" 

America rolled his eyes. 

"God, do you listen to anything I say? Russia and France, of course!"

" _What?"_

America sighed, and launched into explanation from the beginning once again. By the time he finished, Canada was bother astonished and confused by America's train of thought. 

"So because Russia and France are hanging out secretly you think they are planning to start a _war_ against you?"

Canada summarized, flabbergasted. America didn't understand why it was so hard for Canada to understand.

"Duh." 

Canada dropped his head to his hands. 

"Oh my God, I can't believe you." 

He grabbed America's hand and pulled him after him. 

"Just come with me." 

America didn't know what he had been expecting, probably a lot of guns and bombs and war plans, or the very least, knowing France, some sort of wierd flirting while Russia beat him off with a metal pipe. He had not been expecting to see both Russia and France in skin-tight leggings and t-shirts, both standing on their toes, engaging in something that America knew to be a type of dance, but there was _no way._

America thought he must be going crazy, or maybe he'd accidentally eaten one of Canada's "special" brownies, because there was no other sensible reason for what he was seeing. France he could understand, but there was _no way_ that _Russia,_ cold, scary, intimidating _Russia,_ was standing on his toes, dancing the _ballet._

"Happy now?" 

Canada asked. America's only response was to turn and retch Into the garbage can. 

The next time America saw Russia follow France out of the meeting, he shuddered, but pretended he hadn't noticed anything. Sometimes it was better not to know. 


	21. Cuba tries to blackmail "America"?

Honestly, Canada was a little more than confused. 

"Listen, America, if you dont want me to tell you-know who what you did, you'd better do what i ask!"

The country who had cornered Canada demanded confidently. Canada blinked, non-plussed. Was Cuba....blackmailing his brother? He hesitated. Part of him wanted to stop Cuba and tell him he had the wrong country, but another part of him, the kinder part, was telling him it was his duty to protect his sibling. America would do it for him, after all. 

Still... He should probably find out what Cuba knew before making a decision. "Tell _who_ about _what?"_ He asked hesitantly.

Cuba bristled. "Dont play dumb with me! You know exactly what im talking about!" Cuba demanded, only a little petulantly.

Canada blinked. He really didn't, America did a lot of stupid stuff and played a lot of pranks. Canada tried to remember his brother's more recent pranks. 

"Are you talking about that time I replaced France's body lotion with hair removal cream?"

Cuba froze, looking confused. "Uh, no? You did that?" 

Canada frowned in thought. If not that then...

"Or is it that time i put up my fourth of July decorations 2 days early, then when England passed out from shock, i took them all down, and put them up again 2 days later and told him i hadnt seen him since he passed out last year, and scared the maple out of him because he thought he was unconscious for a whole year? "

"You did _what?"_ Cuba looked somewhat awed, and more than a little confused. 

Still wrong then. 

"Or is it that time that that I replaced Russia's Vodka with reguLar water and he was so cranky all day?" 

Cuba turned a little pale. "Wha-" 

"That time I put makeup on China while he slept?"

Cuba shook his head, beginning to look a little sick. Canada was gettting concerned. What could America possibly have done that was worse?

"That time I died Russia's second favorite scarf pink?" He offered, then when Cuba only looked more ill, he continued "Or maybe that time that I-"

"Stop!" Cuba interupted, looking absolutely nauseated. "Please, no more." He begged. "I wont tell anyone, i swear, I'll never try to black mail you again, just promise you wont do anything to me!"

Canada hesitated, wondering if he should mention that America had replaced all Cuba's cigars with licorice ones just before the meeting, but remembered that Cuba thought _he_ was America right now, and he didnt feel like getting beat up.

"... Fine. " Canada guiltily promised. Technically, he wouldnt be breaking the promise, _Canada_ had no intention to prank Cuba, it wasnt _his_ fault Cuba couldn't tell them apart. Cuba breathed a sigh of relief, shoulder's dropping as he relaxed.

"Dont worry, man, I'll take your secret to the grave!" Cuba promised fervently, turning to leave. 

"Wait!" Canada called after him, and he froze. 

"Yes?" 

"You didnt tell me which one it was!" 

Cuba wiped his brow. "oh, it was nothing big, its not that big of a deal, he probably wouldnt care anyways. I was only talking about how you broke Canada's favorite hockey stick and blamed it on Russia is all." 

Canada froze, fire running through his viens and turning quickly to ice.

" **He. Did. _What?_** " 

He remembered confronting Russia about that issue, ending with both of them having a black eye, and Russia sporting a couple broken ribs to match Canada's broken nose. 

Cuba took a step back, studying Canada's face, then growing even paler as he seemed to figure it out. Canada was beyond caring. He whipped around, storming for the meeting room door. 

" _AMERICA!"_

.....

America was in the middle of presenting an idea to China when the meeting room doors threw open, slamming against the walls, cracking the plaster. Everyone froze and stared at the door in shock, and America paled as he reconized the country there and Canada met his eyes, furiously. 

"Oh Shi-"


	22. Russia Doesn't recognize Canada?

"Who are _you_?"

Russia didn't know the timid man standing before him, stumbling over his words, and wincing at America's loud voice. It wasn't that Russia didnt know what his name was, or what country, but rather, the man standing in front of him seemed like a stranger.He could only stare with round eyes as the other country murmurred a string of breathless apologies, eyes not raising further than the newly created coffee stain on Russia's tan jacket.

To be honest, Russia hadn't even heard most of what he said, most of the words were barely whispers, a tone designed to be overlooked, as though he wasn't expecting to be heard to start with. Besides that, Russia didnt understand why the other country was the one apologizing. After all, it was Russia who had banged his elbow on the doorframe upon seeing the familiar country and spilt his own coffe on himself. All the other country had done was stand there. It wasnt his fault that Russia was shocked at the sight of him.

Or maybe it was. Why was he acting so different? Russia was almost certain it was America playing a prank on him. The sudden question finally caused the other country to falter to a halt in his apologies, finally looking Russia in the eye with a half hurt, half exasperated look.

"I'm _Canada_!"

As if. Russia was no idiot, he knew Canada well enough to know that no mattter how similar this simpering soft-spoken country looked to Canada, there was no way it was the same country that had had broken 3 of his ribs during a game of hockey only last week.

"Nyet." Russia refused to fall for America's prank. 

The country claiming to be Canada froze at this, looking more flustered than confused, clearly not expecting this response.

"Um.. But.." He tried, unsuccessfully, to grasp for a response. 

"If you're the REAL Canada, then you know i won the game last night perfectly legally."

The Canada before his eyes seemed to transform in a milsecond. 

"YOU WON BECAUSE YOU CHEATED! You knocked the net off the mooring!"

Canada was standing tall, fury blazing in his eyes, looming rather like he'd like to rebreak Russia's ribs. Russia lit up. 

"It is Canada! I didnt recognize yiu because you were being such a wimp!" 

Russia would have like to crush Canada in a hug, but since Canada's arm had only just healed from their fight, he decided not too, instead grinning deviously amd retorting. 

"was not cheating, it was an _accident!"_


	23. America steals Russia's vodka?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember that time Russia attacked Canada for no reason?  
> Yeah, there was a very good reason.

At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. Russia was getting "a little to big for his britches" as England would say, and his harmless prank was just the thing to take Russia down a few notches. Besides, it would be good for Russia to clear out his system, there's no way drink8ng all that vodka was healthy. So America stole it aeay and refilled all Russia's vodka bottles with water.

It had seemed like the obvious solution at the time, but America was beginning to have second thoughts. Then again, his head was hurting too much to have any real thoughts, courtesy of Russia's lead pipe. As the hero, it was only natural to interfere when Russia mistook Canada as the prankster, but America definitely regretted that now. He should have left them to their "fight " as they called it, or "mutual slaughter" as he called it. Maybe then Russia would be too sore to remember he was mad. As it was...

"Amerika~" Russia called in a sing-song voice, which even America could tell was scary.

"Come out so I can crush you~" Russia called, smashing a hole in the wall with his pipe.

"Not likely!" America retorted. He wasnt that stupid! A shafow loomed over him, amd he felt the temperature drop even further,chilling him to the bones. He traced the shadow up the a furious Russia, so furious he wasnt even smiling. In retrospect he might be just a _little_ bit dumb.

"Die." Russia chimed, his happy voice in discord to his snarling face.

America dodged the incoming pipe. "Dude, _chill!"_ I'm doing you a favour! You're gonna die early if you keep drinking like that! " 

America's kindness was not appreciated.

"Not as early as you, comrade."

This time, America didnt dodge quite fast enough, and he soon found himself with a broken leg to match Canada's. America cursed. "That hurt!" 

America felt the oncoming blow before he saw it, feeling the whoosh of air as Russia swung, and braced for the impact on instinct, knowing there was no way to avoid it. A moment later the pioe connected full force, shattering... the ground ? Russia _missed_? 

"Huh?" 

The arm that had pulled back released his arm, and he met his saviour's face in bewilderment. 

"Estonia?" 

He didnt have time to react to that, a gulping sound drawing his attention back to Russia, where Lithuania was dumping a bottle of vodka down his throat. As America stared, wide-eyed, Russia's malicious aura seemed to settle down. 

"Thank goodness Latvia carries a bottle just in case!" Estonia breathed a sigh of relief. 

"Vodka is the only thing that keeps Russia from destroying the world." Lithuania added helpfully. 

Russia beamed at America, still seething. "Perhaps we can start with America, hmm?" 

America was saved by Canada, reappearing using a hockey stick as a makeshift crutch and luring Russia away with promises of Maple Vodka. America heaved a sigh if relief. But froze as he felt the room get colder still. He looked uo to see Lithuania and Estonia glaring at him in a way almost as terrifying as Russia. 

"Um guys?" 

"Try anything like that again, and we'll personally destroy all your Macdonalds!" They promised in unison, and America shrank as he realized they were serious. 

"ok fine!" He whined, and apparently satsified, Lithuania stoped glowering and stslked off, Estonia not far behind. 

"Geez." America sulked to himself. "Dude cant take a joke." 


	24. The countries go drinking?

In all honesty, it didnt make sense that Canada had won the game. For starters, they were playing poker, and America clearly remembered Canada using Uno cards. America has a sneaking suspicion that it had a great deal to do with the fact Canada was often overlooked, and no one had noticed or cared what cards he put down, simply accepting whatever he claimed. The other, greater part of it was definitely due to all of them being completely hammered, courtesy of Russia, England and Prussia all bringing in endless supllies of alcohol. 

The good news was that no one remembered what they were playing for, although America felt like it was something he wanted very bad. Canada, looking just a little bit more out of it than the rest of them -probably in relation to the pot brownies he and Holland would not stop scarfing down - looked just as clueless as the rest of them, floundering to remember the reason.

America was not above taking advantage of this. "Congratulations bro!" He chimed happily, and Canada somehow managed to give him a suspicious glance without ever actually focusing on his face. "You won! That mean's you get to treat us all to lunch tomorrow!" Prussia burst out laughing. "dude, he's not going to fall for that! Who would want to treat everyone to lunch?" America smirked. He knew at least two people who would argue for that right, and the other one, Japan, wasnt here right now. Canada considered it, hazily, and for a moment he looked like he might buy it, but then he choose that moment to remember one of America's jibes from earlier that day.

"Didn't you say my food sucks, and its not as good as yours?"

"Told ya!" Prussia snickered, much louder than necessary.

"Wait, what were we playing for?" Denmark woke up from his half-conscious state to ask the question no-one would admit they didnt know the aswer for.

There was a murmur around the table as each counrty offered what they thought was worth playing for.

"Obviously cash." Holland announced, starting on his fifth brownie, and sliding two more into a Tupperware container that seemed to contain quite a lot of the free party snacks. 

"No way! It was beer! Beer!" Prussia argued, wav8ng what he assumed to be an empty bottle, and only succeeding in dousing himself with a wheat-ale bath.

"Nonsense!" England cut in, dissaprovingly, sniffing at their foolishness. "Its scones of course! We were playing to see who get to eat my homemade scones!"

America was certain he would remember if he had gambled his life on this game, amd the other countries instantly shot down England as well.

"I don't know!" Moaned Denmark, laying his head on the table. "didn't it have something to do with booze? Maybe Prussia's right?"

Russia beamed at the group with a smile that sugeested he may have known, but all he said was, "Perhaps we should drink more vodka, da? It will help memory come back?" 

Canada declined this invitation by instantly turning and retching into what he thought was a bucket, but was actually Spain's boot. Not that Spain would mind, as Monaco and Romano had dragged him and France away a couple hours earlier.

"Maple." Canada murmured, before retching again, although America couldnt tell if it was his suggestion as to what they were playing for, or just the way a canadian curses. No one else seemed take notice, so America ignored it too.

Prussia seemed to be counting heads, and then stopped, confused. "Are we missing someone? There's only 14 of us.' he blinked. "Or 7 and Im seeing double."

"Frog and Spain went home." England reminded him, and Prussia shook his head.

"No, not them, there should be one more!" 

Did you count Canada?" America asked helpfully, and Prussia snorted. "Yeah, of course-" he stopped to quickly count heads once more, then continued with a hiccup "Yeah, of course the awesome me did! There should be one more!"

Canada rejoined the group at the table and downed the glass of "water" Russia offered him shakily. Russia beamed and took a swig from the bottle. 

Denmark was fighting to stay awake and barely succeeding. "Le'see, Prussia brought the beer, England brought the whisky and Brandy, Russia brought vodka..." 

Russia, upon hearing his name, helpfully supplied Denmark with more vodka. 

"Canada and Holland brought the wierd brownies that make you feel wierd," Denmark continued, tucking of his fingers, and Holland looked righteously offended while Canada played innocent.

"America brought all the chips-" he stopped and peered at the empty snack table. "-weren't there chips?" Holland crunched the empty bag of doritoes into a ball and threw it into what he assumed was a trashbag, but was actually Spain's other boot. 

"What?" he demanded, licking the cheese from his fingers. Canada guiltily pushed the bag of bbq chips he was hogging under the table and avoided eye contact.

"France brought wine and him and Spain drank it all and went home." Denmark went back to his listing. 

"And I brought the life of the party!" He stood up suddenly with this announcement, raising his vodka shot to the sky, then immediately leaned over the back of the couch and vomited. 

"So basically, you're useless" England summed it up.

"No wait, he's right!" America announced in a shock. We did forget someone!"

"Who?" asked a voice by his ear. America tried to remember the name. 

"That dude who came in with Spain... Uhh.. He brough all those nuts and stuff..." His head was too foggy to remember clearly.

"Brazil?" Brazil suggested helpfully from over America's shoulders.

"That's the dude! How'd you know?"

Brazil didnt bother to respond, stalking around to plop down on the couch between Denmark and Russia. 

Russia helpfully poured him some vodka.

"Here's an idea!" America had already moved on from that subject. "Why don't we play another game until we remember why we were playing the first game?" he beamed at the sheer genius of his own idea.

England, ever competitive, perked up. "Good idea!" 

"Great!" America reached for the deck of cards. "I'll shuffle!"


	25. France can't be Pranked?

Pranking France was not as easy as America had thought it would be. Sure, France fell for the prank easily, but far from being upset about his newly bright pink hair, he'd seemed to have decided he looked good in it, and proceeded to flaunt the dyed hair to everyone until England grew so sick of it he changed it back with magic. It wasnt just America either.

It was easy to rope Australia into his pranks, and when Australia replace all France's expensive suits with casual comfort clothes like torn jeans, oversized t-shirts and hoodies as long as dresses, America was certain he would get to see France's distraught face. Not so. The both Australia and America's disappointment, France seemed to take to the loose clothing, even going so far as to wear the hoodie dress to the movie night.

It was time to get help. It was hockey season for Canada, so America knew better than to bother him and Monaco was much to prim and proper to engage in such activities. Instead, Australia and him cornered Seychelles, and once she understood what was being asked, she smirked mischievously and agreed to help. Her plan was simple. France was well known for and proud of his cooking. All they needed to do was somehow make it taste awful. 

For a while it seemed their plan would work. Seychelles had brought Monaco to distract france while the other three added whatever they felt like to France's french onion soup. America dumped in some mustard, Australia some Vegemite, and Seychelles added some pickled fish. They kept going until it was sufficiently disgusting. Finally, it was time to eat, and France settled them down at the table and bustled about with silverware while Monaco brought in the pot of soup. America, Australia and Seychelles threw eachothwr meaningful glances and snickered amongst themselves. 

Their delight only lasted till Monaco took a sip of her soup and sighed dreamily. Then France too smacked his lips approvingly and America threw Australia a panicked look. It couldn't be possibly, right? Not after all the stuff they added? Seychelles reached for her spoon timidly, and a moment later confirmed their fears with a soft moan. America quickly reached for his spoon and shoveled a spoonfull into his mouth. Instantly he mepted into a puddle of despair, soon joined by Australia, amd the rest of the meal was finished with a somber awe. 

"Hey." Australia finally broke the silence and the dejectedly left France's place and headed home. "Maybe we should just prank England instead Mate." 

His suggestion was met with a chorus of half-hearted agreement.

Monaco watched them go theough the window with a self satisfied smirk. "Zhat was worth preparing another pot beforehand." She commented to France, who was tugging the other "modified" pot of Soup out of hiding and placing it next to the good one on the counter. "But what are you going to do with it? There's no way anyone could eat it? " She continued curiously. 

France smirked Devilishly in return. 

"There's one." 

England suddenly felt a huge sense of foreboding as though something twrribke was about to happen.


	26. Hong-Kong holds a family dinner?

Hong-Kong had thought a family dinner would be nice.

Clearly, he hadn't been thinking clearly. There were people at the table he hadn't even invited, and he didn't remember telling anyone they could bring a plus one. Yet somehow France was there, already engaged in a fight with England, while a drunk Scotland cheered them on. Somehow Russia had been invited, and though Hong-Kong didnt know who had done so, he did have his suspicions. America was beaming while stirring up strife between Russia and China, though it wasn't clear whether he was doing it intentionally or not.

Usually Canada could be counted on to keep America from causing too much trouble, but Hong-Kong could instantly tell he wouldn't be any help when he finally located the quiet country, trapped under Russia. Hong-Kong couldn't even tell if Australia and New Zealand were fighting or getting along, they were talking way too fast and with too much slang for him to discipher. As they were not strangling eachother or throwing things, he decided to ignore it. His main issue at this point was elsewhere.

France helpfully assisted England in getting some punch, by forceably dunking his head in the bowl, and England returned the favour by shoving a rice-cake down France's throat. When France started choking on it, England decided to save his life by landing a punch directly in France's stomach, causing France to turn and expell the contents of his stomach - as well as the rice-cake stuck in his throat - into one of Hong-Kong's decorative vases. Sealand, in an effort to be noticed and recognized by England, decided to help by kicking France in the shin, then immediately apologizing when France teared up.

Before Hong-Kong could even try to intervene, there was a loud crash as Russia tumbled of his "chair", knocking several dushes off the table as he fell, and Canada stood up and started shouting, shaking with anger. Unfortunately, America's laughter at Russia was louder than Canada's loudest volume, and he went completely unnoticed. Russia decided this was an opportunity to fight with America, and immediately pulled out his metal pipe. China hit him with a wok from behind while scolding about ruing the family dinner. 

Macau, Hong-Kong's friend and the only non-family member he had actually invited, put a comforting hand on Hong-Kong's shoulder and shook his head hopelessly. On the other end of the table, it semed to be calmer, but Hong-Kong wasnt fooled. He hadnt invited Japan, although he was apparently one of hisnbrother, simply because he wasnt too close with him. Despite that, there Japan was at the table, sitting nicely and neatly and eating calmly, the picture of a polight country. Or at least, Hong-Kong might have believed that if he couldn't see Japan reading Manga on his phone under the table from where he stood.

In fact, the only countries that didn't seem to be causing a ruckus was Thailand and Tawain, who semed to be having an enthralling discussion about martial arts. India, no doubt invited by England, had put on some of his music, and was dancing in a rather energetic way for one his age, quite joyfully. Ireland, who Hong-Kong suspected had invited himself simply to harass England, immediately took this as a challenge, due to his Irish nature, and put on some Irish music, much louder than India's, and pulled his twin Northern Ireland into a dance with him. Oddly enough, India seemed to take to the challenge, and Hong-Kong tried to pretend he didn't notice this going on.

China made it easier to ignore everything else by using Hong-Kong as a barrier to hide from South Korea. Unfortunately, South Korea had nothing against assaulting Hong-Kong and China at once. Hong-Kong sent Macau a pleading look, but it was too late, he was already caught in a conversation with Vietnam. By the time the day ended, Hong-Kong's house was in tatters, and the country himself didnt feel much better off. 

It was at this point Hong-Kong decided that he would never host a family dinner again.


	27. Canada and France aren't close?

"So anyways, then I told France that-" America cut himself off suddenly, shooting a sidelong glance at Canada. England immediately caught on and coughed loudly. "Ah, yes, America, wouldn't you fancy a scone?"

Canada sighed, and closed his book. 

"Guys, you don't have to do that you know."

"do what?"

"Avoid talking about France. It's not like it bothers me or anything." 

America exchanged a glance with England. 

"Of course not, bro!" He hesitated, then cautiously added "But wasn't he kinda..." He paused, then retried. "isn't he like your 'papa' or something?"

Canada raised an eyebrow, and America hurriedly backtracked. 

"I Mean, he took care of you, didn't he? Before England?"

England looked concerned as he studied Canada's face, but didn't say anything.

"Not really." Canada mumbled. "He only took care of me for a little and then he pretty much gave me up to England."

England's expression changed to shock. 

"But you- don't you still speak French Because you miss him?"

America nodded empathetically along, and Canada blushed. 

"That's not it! I mean, I used to because of that but that was years ago. Now It's just part of my culture."

America's face crumpled as though Canada had said something really sad. Canada frowned.

"Really!" Canada insisted, "I used to miss France when I was little, but not for ages now."

England's brow creased like he was trying to read Canada's expressions, and America's face seemed to fall further. Canada found it annoying.

"Besides, whats the use of avoiding talking about it now?" he said a little sharply as he reached for his book again. "you never cared when I was young." 

England and America both took a small sharp breath. Canada pretended he didn't notice.


	28. Denmark wants to have a snowball fight?

"Hey," Denmark suddenly spoke up. "We should have a snowball fight."

His only response was a general snort of contempt from Norway and Sweden and Ladonia, a sad but polite smile from Finland, and a disbelieving look from Iceland.

"What?" Denmark demanded.

Iceland shook his head. "We banned Nordic snowball fights after the last time, remember?" 

The last snowball fight between the Nordics (and for some reason Estonia) had ended with two sets of broken glasses, three different countries breaking down in tears, one very angry Finland and a micronation with a severe cold. Family snowball fights were instantly banned after that. 

Unfortunately for the Nordics, Denmark was very bored and vey much set on a snowball fight. Denmark thought fast. "But it wont be a Nordic only snowball fight!" He decided. 

Norway looked at him suspiciously. "Its not?"

Denmark grinned, the idea in his head becoming a plan. "Nope! I'm going to invite some other countries too!"

"Estonia doesn't count. He's practically one of us." Finland scolded, which would have made Estonia super happy if he had heard. 

Denmark's grin grew even wider and Iceland looked unnerved. "What countries?" He asked cautiously. "Because our snowballs fights can be..."

"Dang'rous." Sweden finished for him. 

Denmark waved off the question casually. "Don't worry, I'm calling in experts."

There was rather comical exchanging of looks between the five as Denmark reached for the phone. Ladonia seemed to clue in first amd jump up to tug on Denmark's arm. "Is Latvia coming?" 

Denmark smirked but didn't answer as the phone picked up. 

"Hey Russia."

There was a general gasp of understanding around the room.

"Want to have a snowball fight?" Denmark continued, smirking almost deviously. "Who? Sure, bring him. Bring Everyone! It'll be epic!"

The other Nordics quickly realized that Denmark's bad idea might actually be really good.


	29. England complains India's food is too spicy?

Everytime India made a dish for England, like clockwork England would complain it was too spicy. The first few times England said that, India would try to make the dish less hot the next time. By the tenth or so time, India was just completely leaving out anything that could possibly make the food seem spicy. By the twelfth time, India was sure England was messing with him.

The twelfth time England claimed that India's food was too spicy, despite the lack of any spice that could possibly be hot, including pepper, India decided he was going to test his theory. 

India went home and made samosas, but not the usual kind. He put in potatoes and beef and peas and lentils..but not a single spice. Not even salt. Then he baked them. As soon as he took the dish out of the oven and it was cool enough, he immediately brought it over to England's house.

England was in the middle of baking something that looked just fine but India knew would be tasteless at best, unidentifiable at worst. England happily took a break when India offered him the snack. India watched closely as England bit into the samosa, savouring the bite, and waited for the customary comment about it being too spicy. 

"How is it?" He asked carefully.

England swallowed his bite and stared contemplating as the samosa before he spoke. 

"This is..." 

Here it comes. India thought. He was ready to reveal that there was no spices in it and prove once and for all that England was messing with him. 

"Amazing!" England turned to India with sparkling eyes. "This tastes just like English food! It's so good! You've really outdone yourself on the flavouring, chap!" 

England took another bite and chewed it pensively as India stared in shock. There was no way he actually liked that tasteless thing... right? 

"Although..." England stopped chewing for a moment as he thought. "It's missing something..." 

India stared harder. Could it be that England just considered anything with a spice "too spicy"? 

England seemed to remember what it was missing, and ran to the fridge to get it, returning with a large bottle of red sauce. 

India narrowed his eyes as he recognized the sauce. 

"You-" 

Apparently obliviously, England immediately poured the super hot sauce all over the samosa while India gaped. 

"It's just not spicy enough." England explained apologetically. "I'm afraid you're losing your touch, chum." 

England then proceeded to eat the whole thing without blinking. India gave up and went home. He never figured out whether England had been trolling him or not, and he never would. 

. 

. 

. 

. 

"Dude, you okay?" America asked nervously as England convulsed on the floor, whimpering with the pain his mouth was in from the heat. 

"You need a doctor? Some Ice cream?" 

America pressed, and England only groaned in response. Since Ice cream fixes any problem, America dug some out of the freezer for England. 

"Did you really have to go that far to prank him?" America asked as England happily stuck the fudgsicle in his mouth. England gave him a bayfull stare over the top of the popsicle,then mumbled his response around it. 

"Yeth."


	30. England gets a birthday present from Russia?

_*this is in no way based on any real life events, just wanted to write the scene based on a tumblr post I saw_

This year on his birthday, England knew he would not be getting any presents. Usually he could count on at least Canada or New Zealand to give him a present, but both of them and America were sternly taking Australia's side. Even Hong-Kong was mad at England right now, and Sealand pretty much ignored him since Sweden bought him.

Usually France would get him something perverted, or at least send him a birthday card saying something along the lines of "Happy birthday. Also, I hate you." depending on how well they were getting along, but this year England knew even that wouldn't happen. If fact, he'd never gotten the silent treatment like this. Usually France liked to be quite vocal of his dislike for England.

Seeing as pretty much every country in the world was mad at him, well, at least all the ones he was likely to get a present from, England was not expecting a present this year at all. That's why he was so surprised to see the parcel on his front step. The white, red, and blue stripped wrapping paper told him clearly who it was from, though only made him more confused and more than a little anxious.

Why was Russia of all people giving him a birthday present? Russia was definitely mad at him too. He cautiously unwrapped the present. It was clumsily made voodoo doll of himself, with several pins jabbed into the chest. The note cars sent with it happily proclaimed

_Happy Birthday!_

_I hope you will accept this handmade present from me. The pins represent all the unhappiness I am sending your way!_

_-Russia_

England sighed and began to remove the pins from the voodoo-England's chest. He considered throwing the doll into the trash, but hesitated. This was after all, the only Birthday present he had gotten this year, and would probably be the only "happy birthday" he got. 

Months later, when France forgave him enough to come visit and tell England how much he disliked him, France would give a strange look to England when he noticed the voodoo doll on the shelf. England would pretend not to notice, and France would be too mad to bother asking. 

_"Russia" Latvia asked nervously, watching as Russia finished wrapping the present, "Why are you giving England a gift?" Lithuania and Estonia both motioned anxiously for him to be quiet, but it was already too late. Russia looked at Latvia with an unreadable beam._

_"It's very lonely to have a birthday with no gifts, da?"_


	31. Canada's Prime Minister is an Idiot?

_*this is a disclaimer to tell you any correlation between this fiction and real life is probably maybe not really but I'll say it is your imagination_

Canada looked stiff and uncomfortable. England looked on cloud nine, and America was not looking at either of them. Everyone else in the meeting were wondering why England and America were fighting. The tension lasted until England chose to call Canada to join him during his speech, and grew even tenser as England had to explain who he was, resting one arm on Canada's shoulder. Canada looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but there. 

"England?"Germany pressed uncertainly, "What is going on?" 

England beamed. Canada studied his feet and mumbled something under his breath. When he made no effort to repeat the words louder, England took over.

"Why, Canada and I just wanted to discuss The Great Reset!"

Canada looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him. Germany blinked.

"Sorry, the what?"

At this point the tension reached breaking point and America exploded angrily.

"It means Canada's selling himself to England!"

Germany blushed. "Ah, I see." He said awkwardly. "I know your economy is...rough...but I hardly think that we all need to know your...relations."

Canada turned bright red. "That's not it!" He squeaked, but he was spoken over by England.

"America! You know that's not it! He and his Prime Minister -lovely man- have decided it's time for Canada to come back to me!" He blustered, while also managing to look like he won the lottery.

Canada looked miserably at America. "It wasn't my decision. " he muttered, but no one was listening.

German had stopped looked horrified at the references of physical relationships, and was looking horrified for a new reason. Australia had stopped playing with his pen and sat straight up in his chair, and New Zealand was looking quite pale.

"You're going back to England?" New Zealand asked hesitantly, in a strained tone.

Canada miserably dropped his head.

"Its not confirmed yet!" England jumped on the chance to respond excitedly. "I've always been a little worried about him, and of course, I let him be independent since he asked so nicely, but I always knew he'd come back eventually!"

Canada froze, his face turning blank and his shoulders stiffening in a way that the more observant countries like Japan could instantly tell was not a good sign. England continued on obliviously. 

"Of course, I'm his big brother! It's only natural for him to look up to me!" 

Canada's hands twitched in a way that Russia recognized from when he was trying not to strangle someone. America rose to his brother's aid.

"He's not joining you because he wants to! You know we can't go against our bosses!"

Canada looked gratefully towards America. Then America opened his mouth again.

"Besides! We all know that Canda is going to join me and become the 51st state!"

There was a cracking sound as Canada tightened his grip on the podium and his fingers sunk into the splintering wood. Japan hastily made an excuse to leave, followed by several other countries. England made a comment about how Canada was better under his control, and Russia grabbed Latvia by the back of his collar while Belarus grabbed Ukraine and they ducked under the table as the podium went flying, hitting America in the face. 

Turkey barely pulled Greece out of the way in time to avoid the next flying item, and Mozambique wasn't quick enough, which was unfortunate, since the next flying item was England himself. Through the entire tantrum there was a repeated low murmur of Canada voicing his complaints.

Then Hong-Kong slipped up behind Canada and pricked him with an acupuncture needle, causing Canada to pass out. Egypt began to treat the injured.


	32. Countries can tell when another country crosses their border?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *based on a Tumblr post I once saw

It was just about 1am at the Russian border, which meant it was the perfect time for America to enact his plan. The plan being that he reached out with one foot and ever so carefully stuck his toe over the border, while the tired border guard watched with the kind of tiredness a nanny of nine might have while watching a child try to drink out of the toilet for the third time. Which is to say, yes, he knew he should put a stop to it, but at this point he'd decided it won't do any harm and he was much to tired to bother.

America retracted his foot after a moment and waited a good five minutes before repeating the action, giggling like a school kid with a frog the whole time. The third time, he took two whole steps across the border, before darting back across with flushed red cheeks. Four cans of red bull and a habit of late night bad decisions had led him here, to this very moment, and America was going to enjoy it. The seventh time he decided to venture a few steps in then retreat, the border guard had enough and kindly asked him to stop.

America was tiring of this game at that point, and Russia was taking much too long to respond, so America didn't put up any resistance. In fact, he was just about to get back in his car when a car pulled up behind him and someone called out his name. America brightened temporarily, then realized the accent was not Russia and drooped, then realized who it was, and turned abashedly to the other country.

"Ah, Estonia." 

Estonia looked very much like he had just rolled out of bed and gotten into the car to see what was wrong. His hair was a mess, he was still in his pj's, and he was squinting in the car's headlights through the glasses sloppily placed on his nose. America felt just a tiny bit guilty. 

"Ah, sorry. I was trying to bug Russia." 

Estonia looked at him curiously, and America explained. Estonia stared at him slack jawed for a moment in the sheer wonder than someone would purposely annoy Russia at 1am, and America wilted a little, feeling like a scolded dog for no real reason. Then Estonia looked nervously around, then whispered hesitantly.

"Could you do it a couple more times?" 

America lit up like a Christmas tree and answered with a shit-eating beam. 

By the time Russia pulled up in his truck, screeching to a stop and oozing fury, Estonia dove back into his car to hide - and watch the show-and the border guard was beginning to look concerned. Two high level exec's had just shown him their ID and both had some seemd to find the American's border dance very important and amusing. When the third executive stomped up to the border station and slammed down his pass, the border guard realized he might just end up witnessing a murder. 

America beamed in a rather evil way, and raised a hand to casually greet Russia.

"Yo!"


	33. Russia likes to lie in the snow?

Sometimes Russia would lie in the snow and pretend to sleep. It wasn't that he enjoyed it, though it was true that thanks to General Winter's blessing he wasn't affected by the cold. It was more because it reminded him of his childhood, not that this was a pleasant memory from then, either.

But even so, Russia still chose to lie in the snow. It felt like any minute there would be a presence at his side, that his big sister would shake him awake, his younger sister, back when she wasn't scary, but sweet and quiet, would slip her hand into his. It made his feel like any moment he could open his eyes and find out he wasnt alone after all. 

Sometimes he did. Sometimes he would open his eyes and look up into the confused eyes of Lithuania or Estonia, though only Lithuania would wake him, while Estonia was usually caught backing away. Sometimes he'd open his eyes because he suddenly got chills up his back that made him feel like something bad was happening, then he'd see Belarus, a soft concern showing in her eyes for just a moment, before her usual fierceness took over. 

Sometimes it was Latvia, not quite as perceptive as the other two baltics, who always seemed to panic when he found Russia in the snow, and he would shake Russia nervously begging him to wake up and wailing that Russia would get sick, which Russia found amusing, seeing as the Baltic nation usually acted as though he did not want Russia nearby. 

Sometimes it was a completely random country. America's wide blue eyes as he stared at Russia like he was some sort of Alien- no, he didn't even look at Tony, his actual Alien, like that. Sometimes it was Prussia, stumbling over Russia's outstretched foot with a curse and then giving Russia an unreadable look, then darting off without another word.

Sometimes it was China, offering a hot tea, and making no comment on the situation, and sometimes it was Canada, or Denmark, who would plop hapilly into the snow next to Russia as only winter countries would, Though Denmark tended to be in constant notion, making snow angels, snow men, goading Russia into a snow ball fight, where as Canada would just lay quietly beside Russia until some unspecified frame of time passed, and then he'd simply pop back to his feet, offer his hand to help Russia up, and then they'd part ways with no further discussion. 

It made Russia curious as to why other countries thought he did that, but Russia would never ask. He preferred not to know the answer. Russia didn't want to say why he did. Russia wasn't sure if he liked the times when there was someone there, but he was certain those times were better than the rest. 

Because sometimes, Russia would open his eyes, and there would be no one there at all, and Russia would stand up, shake the snow off as best he could, and go home to change into something dry and warm. 


	34. America is taken over by Aliens?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a writing prompt I saw

The conference room was in an overpowering state of chaos. Countries were shouting and talking over each other, some were throwing tomatoes ( mostly Spain and Romano who were celebrating the tomato festival despite everything that was going on because "Screw that!" as Romano said and "everyone needs to remember the good things" as Spain said), some countries had burst into tears and others were holding small therepy sessions. Even Germany who usually kept the order, was drowned out in the overwhelming cacophony of voices, while Switzerland had chosen to stay home with Litchenstien. 

Either that or even the impenetrable permanent neutrality border of the Swiss had fallen to _them._

The Hub-bub was interputed by a thundering voice. 

"Enough!"

All eyes turned to England, who had climbed on top of the table and yelled in a voice that seemed almost like it was magically amplified. England glared at the countries. 

"There's no time for this foolishness!" England hissed. "America had been taken over by Aliens, this is serious!"

Mexico burst into laughter, and when England glared at him, he only curled into himself, shaking with the force of his laughter and muttering something along the lines of "only America". England stamped a foot.

"This is serious! Any of us could be next!" 

Every country in the room froze, and the mood turned solemn and stiff. Seeing as he now had everyone's full attention, England cleared his voice and continued in his normal voice.

"We need to make a plan to protect ourselves from _them,_ and then find a way to save America! We don't even know if he's alive!"

The silence in the room was broken by a familiar voice and the intermittent crunching of potatoes chips.

"I'm fine, you really don't have to save me or anything."

There was a moment where it seemed like time froze, no one moved or even took a breath, then another chip crunched and all heads swiveled to the back of the room.

"America?"

England started to move towards him and then stopped. 

"Are you oka-what are you wearing?" 

"Oh this?" America picked at his shirt. "It's this Wierd new fabric they gave me. It's supposedly both biodegradable and environmentally friendly, but also a really long lasting material. Something about saving the earth? I don't like it but they let me keep my jacket so whatever."

Mexico shifted cautiously in his chair. "You're not dead or enslaved? " 

America laughed. "No way dude! They just overthrew and un-empowered my bosses, and took over the government! I'm _great!_ "

"Oh." Mexico said, sounding a little disappointed. 

"Do you think they'll do that for me too, America?" Canada asked hopefully. 

"Dude, probably. Don't think you get a choice. Oh, and by the way, my new bosses changed my name. You guys have to call me Quadrant 1 now."

For a moment, nothing happened. Then England fainted, and as though it was a signal they had all been waiting for, the room desolved back into chaos. Unfortunately that meant no one noticed when America dragged Canada off to meet with some of his new bosses (Tony's relatives, ~~America~~ Quadrant 1 had explained), nor did they notice when the two returned, or the fact that Canada too, was now sporting and outfit of the same mysterious fabric as America, and a new name tag reading:

"Hello, my name is: Quandrant 2".


	35. Canada swears in French?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, also based on a Tumblr post

It was America's fault. Or at least, that's what Canada had chosen to believe. In a rare moment where Canada was actually remembered at a meeting - thanks in large part to the fact Kumajorou had started shredding the podium and Canada had to retrieve him- it had been America who jostled Canada's elbows and made him drop all his papers.

Of course, dropping his papers had prompted Canada to let out a string of swears, subconsciously, and he'd thought it was his saving grace that he'd said it in French. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten how many other countries knew French. 

There were several gasps from around the room, and France's horrified voice rang out. 

" _Canada!"_

Canada shrunk. France wasn't the only one, either. Monaco had clapped her hands over Seychelles' ears and was glaring at him, and Belgium began to scold in French, while Luxembourg and Madagascar looked scandalized and Cameroon looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. Switzerland looked annoyed, but whether that was because of Canada, or the reactions of the other French speaking countries was unclear.

Belgium continued to scold about the language that shouldn't be used at a meeting, while France interjected every so often tearfully.

"Ah, it is my fault! I did not supervise him properly! Ma petit garcon has become so crass!"

England, who knew enough French to understand most of Belgium and France's scolding, did not know any of the curse words, but was quick to understand the situation and turned red as he shot Canada a disapproving look. Even America was looking quite interested, and Canada could have sworn he saw his Southern neighbour jotting down some of the curses on a notepad, which could not be good.h

The commotion continued for a good 15 minutes, by which point Canada's presentation time ran out, and Germany called the meeting back to order so America could give his. Canada sulked in his seat. Yes, he decided. All of this was America's fault. He glared at America resentfully and stuck out a foot to trip his brother.

America stumbled and cursed.... In French. 

The comotion started again.


	36. The Asian Countries refuse to sell tea to England?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A request

In hindsight, it was very, very, stupid of England to claim that all non-English tea was trash in front of all the Asian countries that usually provided him with tea leaves. How was he supposed to know they'd block the export to him? (No, Actually, in hindsight he should have known this too.) He would have liked to blame the situation on France if he could, but unfortunately, France had nothing to do with the situation, and though England tried he simply couldn't come up with a way to blame France. Which was unfortunate, but cause he really would have felt better about the current situation if he could blame France. 

England pouted. Everyone from China to Sri Lanka to even Japan has blocked export of tea - only to him -and were stubbornly refusing to budge unless England admitted that their tea was better than his. This was where England hit a wall. He would have been able to swallow his pride and admit their teas where not trash, or even _as good_ as his, but _better_? That was something England would never say. 

Of course he'd tried to get around it by reaching out to non-asian tea suppliers like Aregentina and Kenya, but somehow the Asian countries managed to convince them as well. Argentina had refused to pick up, and her voicemail suggested a place England could stick his foot, assuming he removed his head first, and Kenya had answered the phone with a cold refusal and hung up directly afterwards. 

When England tried to ~~manipulate~~ ~~~~_convince_ Hong-Kong to buy some for him and send it to him, Hong-Kong had shown an unexpected protective side towards tea (England should have expected that, Hong-Kong _was_ raised by China, after all) and had icily commented "Why would you want _trashy_ tea from us?" and England knew he wouldn't be getting any help from him. Even Turkey reacted hostily to England's request. 

England began to have tea withdrawals. English tea was all well and good, but a lot of his leaves were imported, and besides, England was beginning to tire of his homegrown leaves be this point. It got to the point he _almost_ asked America for help, but given America's track record with tea, England quickly changed his mind. 

That's why England wasn't thinking cleary and did something he normally wouldn't when he found the package of dried leaves from China on his doorstep. Normally, he would have questioned it, checked it, maybe even smelled It deeply, before brewing it. Unfortunately, tea-deprived England was not as smart as tea-fueled England, and he didn't do any of that. England regretted this choice too late. 

He was halfway through the strong cup of tea before England figured out was wrong. Immediately after he found himself in the bathroom retching over the toilet. England had forgotten a very important fact. China did t just produce tea leaves. He also produced Tobacco leaves. The box on England's porch was the latter. 

When Hong-Kong took pity on England's plight and came to check on him-though not to forgive - he found England suffering from the aftermath of drinking Tobacco leaves, sick to his stomach and vomiting.

China never said what happened, but the rumours circulating through the grapevine (read: Through Turkey's Bathhouses) said that all the countries included in this prank, including Vietnam, India, and Indonesia, had been lectured by Hong-Kong for several hours, until China burst into tears and his former Colony finally relentled. 

The countries that were refusing England tea immediately stopped with no explanation or further demands, but England made sure to loudly note at the next word meeting how much he liked teas from _all_ around the world, and that they were definitely _not_ trash. 

~~~~


	37. Nation's eyes turn the first colour they see? -Part 1

Nation's eyes take on the first colour they see. 

For Britain, it was the trees, towering over him and leafy and green, the foliage of the forest. So Britain's eyes turned a deep Forrest green. He remembers it was comforting, and maybe that's why Britain likes to garden, to nurture green wherever he is.

For France it was a tiny blue flower, petals smaller that the tip of his finger, blowing in the wind. He never found out the name, but he remembers it was beautiful, small as it was. France tries to find the beauty in every thing, little or small. 

For America, it was the sky, never-ending and free, uninhibited. America remembers the feeling it gave him, of being able to freely reach where ever he wants. America dreams of being free like the sky. 

For Canada, it was the dusk, the last vestiges as the sun sank beneath the horizon, leaving a purple glow that faded into the dark blue sky. It was calming, a gentle feeling like falling asleep, or rocking in the wind. Canada remembers the smile it brought to his face, and tries to match it. He too, wants to be soothing and gentle like the dusk. 

For Russia, it was the colour of the beginning dawn on the snow, turning the grey shadows purple as he waited for the sun to come up. To Russia, it felt like his shadow became a friend, like the light turned a dismal world into a place of wonder. Russia tries not to lose that sense of wonder.

For China, it was the sturdy trunk of a tree, growing determinedly up, despite the twists and scars in the wood, it's roots digging deep into the ground to hold it steady. China hasn't forgotten the imposing feeling, and he wants to be as firm and unyielding as the tree's trunk, no matter what happens.

For Japan, it was boulders, dark brown, nearly black, unshakable in front of him. Japan remembers when he first stood up, the feeling of surity that the ground would be steady beneath his feet, that it would hold his weight. Japan tries to be like those boulders, strong and unbreakable. 

For Sealand, it was the vast expanse of the never-ending sea, stretching across the horizon, both Beautiful and lonely, appearing calm at first glance, but the spray from the waves that crashed and threw themselves against his fort said otherwise. Sealand remembers the feeling of his own insignificance and awe when he first looked out over the sea. He never wants to feel small and alone again. At the same time, he refuses to make others feel this way. Sealand tries to be as strong and unyielding as the sea.


	38. Nation's eyes turn the first colour they see? -Part 2

Not all nations see something beautiful.

For Prussia, it was blood, a warzone. The colour wasn't beautiful when he saw it, but terrifying. He didn't know where he was, or what was going on. He didn't know much, really. All he knew was who he was, though he didn't even have a name yet. To Prussia, the blood that stained the grass around him meant danger, even as a new countries his instinct were enough to tell him that. Prussia this feeling of danger. He does his best to avoid that colour. Prussia doesn't want to put himself or his family in danger again, though it can't always be avoided. 

For Romania it was the sunset, red and fiery, both warm and terrifying. To the newborn Romania, it looked the the warmth was being stolen away, sinking below the earth and plunging him into darkness. It felt like being abandoned and lost in the dark, not knowing what will happen next. He doesn't like this feeling, so Romania chooses to use magic to light the dark, help him prepare for what happens next. Romania doesn't want to be lost and scared anymore.

Sometimes, the first thing another country sees is another country looking down at them. 

For Moldova, it's the red eyes of Romania he sees first, looking down at him, curious and bright, and Moldova can't forget the warmth he saw there. To Moldova, red means a welcome to a new place, a safety in a world of dangers. Moldova likes that feeling, it's one he wants to spread. Moldova tries to covey a warmth and welcome in his own eyes, like Romania.

For Italy and Romano, it was the shining bronze of their Grandfather's chest plate as he held them to his chest. Italy remembers the way it caught the sunlight and turned golden in flashes when Grandpa Rome moved, and the beauty in that. Italy took up painting to share that same beauty with the rest of the world.

Romano remembers the dents and scratches that caught the light, appearing golden or amber. Romano remembers what it looks like to protect someone, to protect yourself. Romano wants to be strong enough to protect what he wants without getting hurt. Romano tries to strike first, so he won't get hurt.


	39. Russia loses a drinking contest?

Lithuania froze at the sound of a familiar voice, then he turned pale. 

"Oh no. He's doing it again."

"Who, Russia? Doing what? Want me to go stop him?" 

America who was visiting Lithuania at Russia's place helpfully piped up, looking very interesting in whatever Russia was up to, in a way Lithuania might have mistaken as mischievous if he hadn't seen how America balled his fists when Lithuania went pale. Lithuania, sensing a possible disaster, quickly dispelled the misunderstanding. 

"Oh, No! That's not it! It really nothing Russia's doing at all!" 

America's fists relaxed and he looked at Lithuania with bewilderment.

"Then who-" 

He was interrupted by a loud and cocky voice. 

"Polish Krupnik is like, sooo much better than Vodka!"

Lithuania sighed and explained the situation to America with a long-suffering air. 

"Poland has challenged Russia to another drinking contest."

America's eyebrows shot up and he gave Lithuania a shocked and intrigued look. 

"Poland is good enough at drinking to challenge Russia?" 

The door slammed open at that moment, and Belarus came storming out, and Lithuania cringed. 

"No, not at all." 

He sadly answered America's question as Belarus caught him by the collar and started to drag him.

"Come with me! Big Brother need someone to teach him the wonders of Krupnik and that stupid friend of yours isn't gonna cut it!"

Belarus didn't even wait for Lithuania's response, and his weak excuses fell on deaf ears. 

"But Belarus, you're better at drinking than me! Besides Krupnik is yours anyways! Why do I have to do it?"

Belarus responded by flinging Lithuania by the collar into the room.

"Wait!"

She froze just before following him in and turned slowly to face the now-abandoned guest. America looked at her hopefully.

"Can I watch? I wanna see what Russia's like when he's drunk!" 

He asked excitedly, already pulling up the video feature on his phone as he aimed his best puppy eyes at Belarus. If Russia had known this exchange was taking place, he would definitely have refused and demanded America be kicked out. Unfortunately, not only were Belarus and America good friends, but his younger sister just so happened to be aching to share her precious big brother's cute drunk side with someone who would appreciate it, and here was America, offering himself up as a sacrifice.

Belarus smiled, pulling out her own phone. 

"Sure. Do you want to see last year's videos?" 

"Do I ever!" 

By the time a very hungover Lithuania woke up the next morning and usher America out before an even more hungover Russia (currently drinking some vodka to cure his hangover) could find out his biggest frenemy had witnessed his moment of weakness, America had in his possession a number of precious video files on his phone.

Belarus had happily given him the videos of the last few drinking contests Russia had (America has requested the ones he lost only, of course) and America had gleefully received them, even though it was under the unfortunate restriction that he could not share or tell anyone about them in anyways.

"It was totally worth it tho."

America whispered to himself as he scrolled past the videos of Russia tying with Czech in a drinking contest to the more interesting videos where Russia lost to Belarus, last night's Lithuania (even after Lithuania gave himself a handicap saying it wasn't fair for him to just start drinking when Russia had been drinking for quite a while), to the most unexpected victor- Moldova, Romania's younger brother who had drank Russia under the table and then proceeded to celebrate his victory with several more drinks-right up until the point Romania showed up and hauled him away.

America snickered as he watched the video of drunk Russia. God, he wished he could share it, but a promise was a promise and he didn't want to betray Belarus's trust.

Besides, he was looking forwards to next time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note:
> 
> "Krupnik (Polish, Belarusian) or Krupnikas (Lithuanian) is a traditional sweet alcoholic drink similar to a liqueur, based on grain spirit (usually vodka) and honey, popular in Poland, Belarus and Lithuania" as per Google 
> 
> Also as per à Google search, apparently Moldova drink the most alcohol in relation to size, while next is Belarus, then surprisingly Lithuania, THEN Russia and Czech Republic was just below Russia. (source: vinepair.com/articles/map-countries-drink-most-alcohol/) 
> 
> Naturally Poland didn't even place, but I needed him to be stupid enough to challenge Russia knowing he would fail, because he was depending on lithuania to win for him and "Liet's win is like totally the same as my win"


	40. Australia and Austria dress up as eacother as a prank?

"Oh, Austri..a..lia?"

England stumbled over the name as he called out to the primly dressed nation holding a music sheet and wearing a pair of (fake) glasses. The nation in question turned to England with a mischievous beam.

"Oi, England! Were you looking for me?"

England gaped at Australia. 

"Sorry, I thought you were... But weren't you just over there.... No, rather... You..." 

Australia stared at him innocently and tipped his head slightly. 

"Ah, d'ya like my suit! Haven't worn it in a while but it still fits!" 

Australia adjusted the glasses on his nose and England floundered for words. 

"But you- You never wear a suit when I ask you too! And what's with the glasses? You don't need those!"

Australia beamed harder. 

"Really pulls the outfit together, doesn't it mate? They're fake, though." 

England gave up with a sigh. 

"You know what, never mind. I was actually looking for Austria, I have something to discuss with him. Don't suppose you've seen him?" 

If possible, Australia's beam grew even more wicked as he pointed to a nation across the room wearing a kangaroo patterned shirt and shorts. England turned pale. 

" No way, there's just no way... "

"Oi! AUSTRIA! "

Australia cheerfully called out to the country across the room, and to England's growing horror the brown haired country in Australia's clothes turned, huffed, and made his way across the room.

"Yes? What is is Australia? I can't think that you'd call me for no reason?" 

Austria reached up as though to adjust his glasses, and upon finding them missing looked disconcerted. Australia threw an arm around England. 

"This chap was looking for you." 

Austria turned his gaze to England, but England couldn't seem to find the words to speak. He wanted to ask what was going on, why the two nations had dressed as each other, or if maybe he'd gotten heatstroke during the breif moment the sun shone yesterday over London, but what came out was something completely different. 

"Can you even see without your glasses?" 

England asked the question in a dazed tone, and Austria clicked his tongue as though the question was beneath him before responding cooly.

"Contacts. I hope that wasn't what you called me for?"

England shook himself out of his daze.

"No, of course not. About that issue earlier-" 

Australia, satisfied his job was done, crossed the room to where Austria had just left from, grinning from ear to ear as he caught the sounds of chaos from the countries there. 

"Mr. Austria.. Was wearing shorts..."

Hungary murmured, looking quite scared, and Germany also looked a bit nervous as he agreed.

"He never wears shorts. Not even in summer!"

Prussia was pressing his palms into his eyes and muttering a refrain under his breath that sounded like "I didn't see that, I didn't see that, I ~~~~_did not_ see that!"

Across the room, Austria nodded his head as though listening to England as he watched New Zealand and America panic behind England's back.

"Australia... Was wearing a suit!"

America looked devestated. 

"I thought we were buddies! I thought he understood me!" 

"Forget that!"

New Zealand snapped back. 

"Why was he holding sheet music? Has he taken up composing?" 

From opposite ends of the room, two countries with similar hair and ahoges and completely different personalities both made the same expression. 

_Smirk._


	41. The BTT's family imitates them?

Canada peeked around the corner, wrinkling his nose at the overpowering scent of wine, and sighed. 

"Not again." 

Romano scowled as he too peeked into the room. 

"Stupido. Im not cleaning that up."

Germany didn't even bother to look into the room, heaving a heavy sigh and sinking to his heels. 

"So?" He asked tiredly. "Who wants to go in first?" 

Romano and Canada shook their heads wildly.

"No way!" Romano objected. That stupid Spain is going to be all ' _Romano! You came to get boss!'_ and then he'll drape himself all over me! I won't do it!" 

Both he and Germany looked at Canada who put his hands up in a defensive gesture.

"Don't look at me, eh! France doesn't listen to me on the best of days! He'll just complain about my accent, then decided to call ' _Angleterre'_ and harass him! I don't want to have to try to stop him again!" 

Canada's voice was unusually firm, even for his soft tone, and Germany nodded his head. 

"Ja, I know what you mean. Bruder will definitely go on about how awesome he is and then he'll offer me beer and we'll both end up drinking. I can hear his voice now;" Germany mimicked Prussia's husky tone surprisingly well, " _West! Come and drink! You're not a true Germanic if you don't want beer!_ " 

Romano gave him an approving look.

"Not a bad imitation. Sounds just like that potato bastard." 

"Yours wasn't bad either." 

Canada noted, and there was a moment of silence as all three thought of the same thing. Canada was the first to start. 

"Ahh," HE sighed in an exaggerated French accent, "My life is so 'ard, Angleterre is so _mean!"_

Canada flipped his hair in an uncannily similar way to France as he moaned. Germany smirked. 

"Ja, I know right!" He said in Prussia' s indignant tone. "Yesterday he sprayed me with his hose just cause I took a few flowers from his garden! He's totally unawesome!" 

By this point all three were wearing a smirk. 

"Now, don't be like that, Amigos!" Romano draped an arm around Canada and waved a free arm at nothing in particular "Come on! Happy thoughts! Drink up!" 

"Ja, more beer!" Germany was really getting into the act, gesturing with one of the empty beer bottles he found on the floor. 

"Happy thoughts? Canada purred, a lechourous smirk on his face. "Honhonhon... Angleterre..." 

"Oh no!" Romano piped up dramatically! "Romano is coming to get me! Maybe if I hide this wine bottle under the table he won't think I'm drunk!" 

"Ahh, why don't we just drink all the wine?" Canada suggested, "Then we should strip and harass England!" 

"No wait! I have a more awesome idea! " Germany interrupted, eyes looking quite playful despite his stiff face. "We should call West and make him drink too! The more drunks the better!" 

Romano was the first to crack, clapping a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter as his shoulders shook. Germany too, began to chuckle under his breath, and Canada didn't hold back his peals of laughter at all, laughing until tears came to his eyes.

Finally, the chuckles died out, and the three looked at each other for a moment before Germany made a suggestion. 

"Why don't we just leave them and go get a drink ourselves? They'll be fine on their own for a bit." 

Romanovs lips began to twitch up again, despite his obvious efforts to look disdainful. Canada looked hopefully at Romano. 

"I know a good place!" 

Romano sighed. 

"Fine! Let's go. You're paying you potato Bastard."

And so the three abandoned the three drunks and went to have their own fun. 

France peeked around the door at them as they left and frowned.

"I don't harass Angleterre _that_ much."

"You really do Amigo." 

Spain corrected while Prussia nodded. Then they all looked back out into the hall.

"Still..." 

Prussia spoke first. 

"My little brother is so cute!" 

"Ah, Canada too!" 

"Si, and Romano!" 

They cooed after their younger family members for a while. Then, seeing as it didn't seem they'd be coming back anytime soon, Spain popped open another bottle of wine and proposed a toast. 

"To little brothers!" 

France took a wine glass from Spain and Prussia raised his beer and they all clicked them together. 

"Ja, I'll drink to that!" 

**** The "cute little brothers" then promptly forgot to go back and pick up their siblings, which resulted in a very disgruntled Austria, Somewhat disturbed Seychelles and an amused Belgium coming to Pick them up instead. Austria was notably late after he got himself severely lost until a friendly passerby helped him find the bar. They proceeded to get incredibly lost again on the way back, as Prussia was much too drunk to navigate and Austria is hopeless. Thankfully, Poland let them stay the night at his house without much interest on how they ended up there instead of Germany. ****


	42. The Winter countries have a snowball fight? PART 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *picture of Kazakhstan I found online. You might remember Mongolia as the shadowy figure behind Sweden that bullied Russia as a kid. These guys were listed as some of the coldest countries so I wanted to include them.

[Kazakhstan Hetalia](https://www.google.com/search?q=hetalia+kazakhstan&safe=strict&client=ms-android-samsung&prmd=insv&sxsrf=ALeKk01idSkq_PBryhRoT8BR8_Q_awU2Zg:1610050154429&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi8lpmc0IruAhUwGVkFHX7WDQ4Q_AUoAXoECA4QAQ#imgrc=GxwDQtS5OWr0jM)

It had been Denmark s idea, which usually already meant it was a bad one, but surprisingly, Russia thought this particular idea was actually pretty good. It was America's idea to invite Kazakhstan and Mongolia, which Russia was less pleased about. Of course, it was Russia who decided to invite America, so some of the fault probably laid with him, but naturally, Russia ignored this. Of course, contacting one of the North American brothers about snow was sure to bring the second with him, so the teams ended up as follows. 

Russia, Belarus, and the three Baltics were on one team (the Baltics hadn't gotten a choice in the matter, and Ukraine still wasn't allowed to speak to Russia as per her boss.) the Nordics were all on another team, and Mongolia, Kazakhstan and the North American brother were on the last teams. 

As per a forced agreement between Sweden and Russia (Russia had found Sweden was surprisingly forcefull about these sort of things) It was agreed that the smaller Baltic country Latvia and the micronation Ladonia would have a separate match away from the larger countries fight, much to the relief of Latvia and envy of Estonia. Ladonia, who had been pouting about it, quickly was thankful for it once the first snowball was thrown, completely knocking America off his feet. 

The winter countries snowball fight commenced with a fury of buried grudges that could only be appeased by packing the hardest, iciest ball of snow as possible and throwing it at your enemy. 

Iceland, who despite his name, didn't deal much with ice or snow, was put to work hurriedly constructing a snow fort with Denmark, while Finland showed Norway the way to make the most painful snowballs, and Sweden kept watch. On Russia's team, Lithuania and Estonia were put to work on the fort while Belaru packed snowballs with an alarming speed, and Russia began dividing roles on who would attack who amongst his team. 

On America's team, Canada was making a incredibly sturdy looking snowfort at an incredible speed, his walls already much higher than the other teams, while Kazakhstan worked in the snowballs, and America and Mongolia....they did nothing to help and argued about why it had to be called Team America and not Team Mongolia. 

Finally, all preparations where completed. Poland, upon hearing about the snowball fight from Lithuania, had volunteered to be the judge, and setting himself up on the deck with several blankets and some hot chocolate, Poland announced the rules. 

The rules were simple, and easy. No Ice, no weapons or any time of attack that was not limited to the throwing, launching, or dropping of snow. The fight went on until someone couldn't continue anymore and surrendered, or the fort was destroyed. Other than that, anything went.

Poland reddied his whistle, Russia raise his arm back to throw the first snowball, Finland scrambled up a tree to shower down snowballs from above, and Kazakhstan yanked America and Mongolia down behind The fort walls by the backs of their collars. The whistles blew, and the fight began. 


	43. The Winter countries have a snowball fight? PART 2

Some countries might have had a few qualms about throwing a snowball as hard as they could in the face of a very large country they used to bully as a kid. Mongolia was not that country. Mongolia's snowball didn't even make it to Russia before another snowball collided with it midway, disintegrating both. 

"None of you lowlifes are going to land a single hit on my brother!" Belarus declared, already fending off an attack from Sweden. 

America grinned, winding up like he was a little leagues baseball player. 

"So what you're saying is if I can hit him I'm not a lowlife, right?"

Belarus didn't have a chance to respond, as Sweden and Finland proceeded to rain down tightly packed snowballs from above, while Norway focused on returning Kazakhstan's attack from Team America. Mongolia and America had finally stopped arguing and came to a conclusion as America reluctantly agreed to let Mongolia target Russia and he would target Belarus. Lithuania and Estonia kept their heads down and their focus on quickly supplying the two scarier countries with snowballs.

The first casualty was Iceland, hit completely by accident in the back of his head when Denmark dogged a snowball from Kazakhstan. Norway became more aggressive, and Canada received the revenge snowball in the shoulder when he popped up over the edge of the high fort walls with more snowballs. Finland, sniping people with snowballs from the safety of the snowy tree branches Recieved more snowballs from Iceland and shouted a command.

"Don't focus on hitting the other team! Destroy the forts!" 

Sweden, like a well oiled machined, immediately switched gears, and Norway too redirected his effiorts, but Denmark was having way to much fun trying to get a hit on Russia. Russia's fort began to crumble and Estonia quickly set to work on building it up, Russia, realizing the danger to his Fort, relayed the command to his sister though a single word.

"Belarus!"

"Got it!" 

Team Russia decided the best defense was a good offense, and Belarus and Lithuania redirected their efforts towards the forts. Finland stoped sniping and slipped down to help make snowballs while Denmark repaired their quickly crumbling fort. Team Nordic stopped defending against snowballs and just let themselves get hit, instead focusing their power on destruction and repairs. 

"Fin!" Norway ducked down next to their leader, skating snow out of his hair. "Can't break through Team America's wall, they're rebuilding it as fast as it breaks." 

Finland looked over. 

"But America, Kazakhstan, and Mongolia are fighting? There's just one person on repairs?" 

Norway nodded. "Canada." There was a gleam in his eye that made Finland grin. 

"You have a plan?" 

Norway nodded, eyes sparkling in a way that would make any country nervous.

"It's being taken care of." 

Finland nodded, and gave a new order to the rest of the group. 

"Focus all attention on Team Russia! We can easily get Team America later!" 

America, upon hearing this turned to look at Finland, deeply offended. 

"Hey!" 

Mongolia snickered as America's laspe in attention earned him a Belarus strength Snowball to the side of his face, knocking America Straight off his feet. Team Russia didn't have time to celebrate this, Now changing their "no defense" strategy to a strong defence strategy, Russia dropping down to help pack a strong Fort while Estonia gathered snow and brought it back, and Lithuania and Belarus took care of offense.

In the front yard, away from the hell scape that was the fight in the backyard, Ladonia and Latvia got tired of pelting each other with snow and started building a giant snowman. 


	44. The Winter countries have a snowball fight? PART 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is soooooo much longer than I intended

Poland was quite enjoying spectating the snowball fight from his ~~throne~~ ref's chair, cozily wrapped in blankets and sipping hot chocolate that Latvia had kindly refilled for him when the two boys decided they were too cold to continue and came inside. It was a good, safe vantage point out of the way of stray snowballs, but close enough that he could clearly see America take down Lithuania with a well aimed snowball to the legs, forceful enough to drop Lithuania to his knees with a cry.

"Sorry dude! You okay? I tried to throw it lightly!"

America called to his friend on the opposing tea, and Belarus kicked Lithuania to tell him to get up, and Lithuania did, showing America a thumbs up to assure his friend he was alright.

It was also a great vantage point for Poland to watch Team Nordic enact their plan to take down Team America. Team Nordic was running like well-oiled machine, launching a two pronged attack at both other teams, via stealth and direct attacks, Russia's team was working well to support each other's shortcomings, and America's team.... Well it was doing something, though occasionally America and Mongolia forgot who they were supposed to targetiting and took a brief moment to shove snow down eachother's backs, and Kazakhstan seemed really intent on taking down Sweden from Team Nordic.

No one on Team America listened to Norway's battle strategy of attacking the Fort, or Canada's strategy of... Well, no one knew, since they weren't listening. Unlike Team Russia, who built their fort in a way that the members who were repairing the walls could still see any attacks from the side, or Team Nordic who had the tall Sweden acting as lookout now that Finland was on the ground again, Team America only had three Members on offense and Canada who focused on reinforcing the walls. Unfortunately, this meant they had no one to spot the attack from the rear until it was too late.

With no warning, Iceland, who had sneaked out of Team Nordic's fort and army crawled his way through the snow to Team America's fort, using his white snow jacket as camoflague, burst out of the snow behind Team America's fort and threw himself through the back wall, destroying it completely, and causing Canada to jump back in surprise, knocking America through the front wall of their fort. 

Team Russia, though taken by surprise, lost no time in taking advantage of the other team's attack, and Russia exchanged a glance with Sweden, and the other nodded, and both teams turned all their attention toward their weakened enemy, calling a temporary truce while Iceland dashed out of the crumbling fort, chased by Mongolia. As soon as Molgolia left the fort Kazakhstan called after him.

"You idiot! We have to fix the fort or we'll lose!"

But it was too late. Russia, who had been operating behind Fort walls until this moment, led an attack on Team America's crumbling fortress, leaving Belarus to guard their Fort. Americas fort crumbled under Team Russia's snow assault and Poland blew his whistle to signify the disqualification of a team. There was a dual shout from the sidelines, where Ladonia and Latvia joined Poland on deck, a cry of warning from Latvia and a whoop of support from Ladonia, and the whistle blew again. 

Too late, Russia turned back to his fort. Belarus, more snowman than country now, had been pushed back by Denmark's strategic plan to use the slope their Fort was on to roll a giant snowball down to Russia's Fort. Belarus alone couldn't stop it, and while she tried, Norway rushed in and kicked down the snowfort walls, all while Sweden, and Finland had kept up the pretense of a truce while they attacked Team America with Russia. It was an amazing move that made Poland whistle in appreciation, and Russia's hand fell to his side limply, snowball still in hand. Mongolia reluctantly stopped burying Iceland in snow while Iceland struggled, and the teams all returned to the sites of their respective forts, Team America whilst grumbling amongst and about each other, Team Russia in a morose silence, and Team Nordic with large grins and high fives. Ladonia flew down the steps to congratulate his team, and Latvia hid behind Poland at the sight of Russia's dark eyes.


	45. The Winter countries have a snowball fight? FINAL PART

Poland waited for all teams to settle before he made the announcement. 

"So, like, Team Russia wins. Congrats or whatever." 

There was a moment of silence, then all teams burst out with complaints, even Russia, who didn't like taking credit for a win that wasn't his. 

"You're just taking their side Becuase Lithuania is your friend!" 

America complained. 

"Yeah! Why didn't we win?" Denmark demanded angrily.

Poland, in a way perhaps only Poland could, remained unphased by the multiple angry complaints. 

"Well, Team Nordic totally broke the rules, and Team Canada fell first, so, like Team Russia wins by default." 

There was a beat of silence as they all recalled the rules, and then Team Nordic sagged as they figured out where they went wrong. Poland raised an eyebrow. 

"No type of attack that is not limited to the throwing, launching, or dropping of snow. "

Poland quoted.

"Did you forget? Because Iceland isn't made of snow, so launching himself through the wall didn't count."

Upon this announcement, all faces present changed. Well, not Sweden's, really. But Norway's face turned to guilt, as it had been his plan Iceland enacted, and Iceland looked ashamed. Denmark looked like he was trying to come up with an escuse, Ladonia looked disappointed, and Finland looked around at his depressed team and began to look quite motheringly and concerned. 

On Russia's team, Russia's face turned wondering, then his smile began to creep out. Belarus cheered and yelled "Take that suckers!" (language she no doubt learned from America) and Lithuania and Estonia shared a relieved look of comrades who fought a long hard war but somehow came out on top. Latvia stopped hiding and ran down to congratulate them, a cup of hot chocolate in each hand, one of which he hurriedly pressed into scary Mr. Russia's hand, and one of which he presented to scary Mr. Russia's scary sister. Apparently either his bribe peace offering worked, or they hadn't notice how he hid, but no one said anything about it. 

It was Mongolia, surprisingly, who changed the atmosphere of his team from sad losers to fighters. 

"Aww, man!" He whined, still trying to remove some of the snow America had shoved down his back. 

"Next time we're calling it Team Mongolia, and I'm gonna be the leader." 

The words "next time" seemed to have a magical effect, and Everyone brightened. 

"Uh, No!" America objected. "We only lost because you couldn't stay in the fort! I-" 

He was cut off by Kazakhstan speaking in a firm, yet slightly intimidating tone. 

"How about I lead Team Kazakhstan, and we all listen to me, and no one gets annihilated? Hmm?" 

America and Mongolia sunk back sulkily, but didn't argue, and no one even acknowledged Canada's suggestion "What about Team Canada?". Finland, having overheard (it was kinda hard not too, Team America wasn't really the quiet type of team) turned to his team with renewed vigour.

"That's right! Next time we'll come up with a better strategy!" 

"One that doesn't break the rules!" Denmark added. 

"That's right! Or at least one that breaks rules in a way we won't get caught!" Acknowledged Finland cheerfully, and Estonia, who had been making his way over to greet his friend, suddenly felt like he heard something he shouldn't have, and decided to ignore it. 

America, having finished pouting, approached Russia with a show of good sportmanship, before pulling out a trophy from seemingly nowhere and presenting it to Russia with much bravado. 

"It's not a win if you don't get a prize!" America graciously announced, slapping Russia on the shoulder. "Congrats and stuff!" 

America had clearly made the trophy assuming he was going to win, and it depicted a person that looked suspiciously like America, midleap, about to bring a giant snowball down on an indistinct country's head. Russia accepted the prize with mixed feelings. (This is a sort of win on its own. Either you get the prize or the other team gets to see a golden you slam dunking snow on someone's head whenever they think about their win. Good grief America this is like phycological warfare.) 

Then, Ladonia sneezed, and Sweden herded evyone piled for hot chocolate with marshmallows, made courtesy of Latvia, who's servant instincts were well alert, even in someone else's home. 


	46. A spell makes Denmark able to read minds?

It was an accident. 

It started with a drinking party at Sweden's place, about 10 or so countries that really knew how to enjoy a drink (Norway even reluctantly allowed Iceland to drink under Sweden's strict supervision) , and ended up in a huge mess that included America trying his best to read a recipe from one of Norway's books while Denmark laughed. Denmark couldn't have known it would have unexpected consequences. 

_I'm going to kill him._

Denmark blinked nervously at Norway, who was watching him drink his hangover drink with a somewhat neutral expression, with his lips pressed tightly together, and eye slightly twitching. 

_No, wait, first I'll break his fingers, **then** kill him. _

Norway was also very clearly not talking, which was terrifying to Denmark, since he kept hearing Norway's voice in his head. That and the words he were hearing were significantly violent. Denmark decided to ignore the first issue is favour of appeasing Norway before he lost his life. 

"Um, Nor?" He ventured, somewhat sheepishly, "I'm sorry?" 

Norway raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything out loud. 

_Oh God, he's actually apologizing, what else did he do?_

Denmark flinched. Okay, so that didn't work, but on the other hand he was pretty sure he figured out what was going on. He took a moment to assess the situation. 

1\. He could hear Norway's thoughts.

2\. Norway was mad at him. Relation to the previous fact unknown. 

3\. His head hurt but he was also starving. 

Naturally, he decided to address the most important fact first. 

"I'm hungry and my head hurts." 

Denmark informed Norway pitifully, giving him his best puppy eyes. Norway stared at him. 

_Seriously? After what he did last night and this is the first thing he says? And does he really think that if he looks at me like that I'll forgive him?_

Denmark increased the force behind his puppy eyes, and Norway sighed. 

"There's medicine and food in the kitchen."

_Dammit, I fell for it again._

Denmark expressed his thanks by squeezing Norway as hard as he could, then hauling him to the kitchen before he had a chance to react. 

"Wow! I can't believe you made me breakfast! You're the best Nor!" 

_You'd better be, do you even know how much work it is to take care of you?_

"I was making it for Ice. Those are extras."

Norway bluntly cut off Denmark, and Denmark stared at him. He wasn't really surprised to hear the difference in Norway's thoughts, or rather, he'd always assumed Norway was like that, so he just accepted It as normal. He happily swallowed down his Advil and started on the breakfast Norway made him hungrily. Unfortunately, Denmark was finding it hard to eat.

_Look at him. You'd think he never ate. It's not like I starve him._

Denmark hesitated in his eating long enough to explain why he was eating so ravenously. 

"This is really good Nor!"

He said, or at least, that would have been what he said if his mouth wasn't full. Norway gave him a look that Denmark didn't need to hear thoughts to understand. 

_That's disgusting._

Denmark quickly chewed and swallowed, pushing some of his food towards Norway as an apology. 

"You eat some too Nor!" 

"I already ate." 

Norway responded blandly. 

_I didn't though._

Denmark frowned at that. Exactly what did Norway mean by that? Did that mean that everytime Norway said he already ate, he hadn't? Denmark's gaze fell to Norway's wrist. Was it skinnier than before? Denmark gaze grew serious.

"You have to eat Nor! You're basically wasting away!" 

_What's with him? He's not usually like this?_

Denmark didn't break eye contact, and finally Norway accepted the offered food reluctantly. It was only after Denmark supervised Norway eating a good part of the food that Denmark resumed eating himself while Norway watched him. Having solved the most important problem, Denmark thought back to the other two problems: finding out why Norway was mad and figuring out why he could read minds. 

_Why's he being so Wierd? He's not usually this... Perceptive. Well, I suppose I can forgive him for messing with my spell books last night._

Well that answered both of his questions. Denmark put down the fork he was using and advised Norway of this with a satisfied air. 

"That makes sense! Sorry for touching your spell books Nor! I thought it was a recipe book!" 

_Huh?_

Denmark continued happily. 

"Something that America read must have made it so I can read minds! That makes so much sense now!" 

Norway stared at him, and spoke in unison with his thoughts. 

"You can read my mind?" 

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Ever since I woke up. Wierd right?" 

Norway's face didn't change, but Denmark froze at the coldness of the thought. 

_Never mind, I'm gonna kill him._

__


	47. Canada forgets America?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> * This is ridiculously longer than I expected, and also very sad. I didn't want to cut anything out. Enjoy

It had been Canada who called America and made plans to meet up. America was going to meet Canada at the bus stop and they'd walk to the bowling alley from there. America had even remembered, showing up at the correct time and place on the correct day, bundled up in a scarf to protect him from the crisp winter air. 

It was Canada who was late, caught up in watching Hockey on TV, but America hadn't cared, clearing off a place on the snowy bench and lying his scarf on top to sit on, America began playing a game on his phone. Thirty minutes had passed that way. Then forty. Then an hour. America hadn't moved. 

Twenty minutes in, England had stopped by the bus stop on his way to the mall, backtracking his steps tlat the sight a familiar blonde head.

"America?" 

"Yo, England!" 

And so America had chatted with England for a bit, and explained he was waiting for Canada to show up, cheerfully noteing that Canada was "a little late." 

England hesitated. 

"Who? Oh, Canada, right." 

England regarded America with an anxious look, and spoke gently. 

"Are you sure he's coming? You know it's hockey season right now?" 

America looked at England like he was saying something ridiculous. 

"Yeah? Of course, he said he'd come." 

England didn't look convinced, but he had errands to run, so he hurried on, but not before leaving America his hat to cover his reddening ears. 

Barely 10 minutes later, France also passed by, holding a bag of some steaming fresh and warm pastries, humming to himself. He walked happily up to the bus stop, humming away, then he saw America, and jumped. 

"America?" 

"Hey France!" 

And so America had chatted with France for a while, and France learned that he was waiting for Canada. America noted that Canada was "kinda late" and he hoped he was okay. France looked concerned. 

"Who? Oh, oui, Canada, of course!"

France spoke hesitantly. 

"Are you sure he's coming today? Just want to be sure, it _is_ hockey season you know." 

America smiled back at him, his breath hanging in frozen puffs in the air as he put a way his phone and started rubbing his hands together to warm them. 

"Of course! It's definitely today! We've been planning this for weeks!"

France opened his mouth to say something else, but at that moment the bus pulled up, and France, looking quite flustered, pulled one of the warm pastries from his bag and pressed one into America's cold hands, telling him to take care of himself. Then France was gone. 

Fourty minutes since he started to wait, Russia joined him on the bench, seemingly not noticing America. America was too busy shivering to care. Finally, after five minutes of silence, Russia greeted America, still without making eye contact. 

"America."

"Sup, Russia?"

And so America, for the third time, found himself explaining what he was doing there and who he was waiting for. Russia's eyebrows furrowed for a moment. 

"Who?"

Then seemingly remembering, his brow furrowed further, and he looked at America strangely. 

"Canada? Today? But it's hockey season?"

America was beginning to feel annoyed at that question. 

"He said he'll come." America muttered slightly petulantly, then sneezed.

Russia apparently decided it was time to leave and stood up, though America wasn't sure why he'd come to a bus stop to start with if he wasn't getting on. Russia started to move, then his hands went to his scarf, a red one, not his usual white scarf. A moment later the scarf dropped onto America's lap, but Russia pretended not to see America's questioning look. 

"You will return that later." Russia announced, then stalked off without another word as though the sudden absence of the scarf was annoying him. America stared at Russia's back with wide eyes, then wound the scarf, still warm from Russia's body heat, around his neck. His shivering didn't stop. 

America stuck his cold hands in his pocket, having long since finished France's treat, and touched his phone. Canada was awfully late, almost fifty minutes late now. Perhaps something had happened to him? America should call. So America did call. The phone rang and rang, but didn't pick up. America told himself that Canada's phone had probably died, his brother was just late and had no way to call America and let him know.

Ten minutes later it began to snow again. By the time Mexico passed by, America was too cold to care. This time, America was expecting the conversation. 

"Who?"

"Canada."

" _Canada?_ But it's hockey seas-" 

America cut him off. 

"Yes, it's hockey season. Yes, he's coming. He's just late, I'm sure of it." 

Mexico scanned America from head to foot, noting England's hat, Russia's scarf, and the redness to America's fingers and scoffed.

"Yeah, he's not coming."

America didn't respond, but looked resolutely ahead. Mexico looked frustrated.

"Argh, you're so irritating!"

A pair of black gloves hit America in the face, and Mexico shoved his now bare hands in his pockets. 

"Learn to wear gloves you idiot country!"

Mexico had then stomped off, cursing, and America smiled and put on Mexico's gloves, though neither of them would ever address it again. 

* * *

Canada didn't hear the bell ringing, or the door opening. The TV was on full volume and he was cheering himself hoarse at the TV. He didn't hear the country that stalked up behind him, but he did feel the slap to the back of his head that they dealt him, nearly knocking him into his beer.

"What-?"

He began in confusion, which only grew when he saw the country standing in his living room. 

"Mexico? What are you doing here? I thought you said my winters are too cold?" 

Mexico ignored him coldly, digging through the blankets on the couch and coming up with Canada's cellphone, still ringing, and showing many missed called from various countries. Canada's face morphed into concern, and Mexico threw the cellphone at him in disgust. 

"Yeah. I don't like your winters. It's fricking cold. That's why I wouldn't leave my brother sitting in the cold for hours on end, waiting for me." 

Canada turned pale. 

"Oh shit. _America!_ " 

He scrambled to his feet, rushing for a jacket and hat, breathlessly expressing something that may have been either an apology or a thank you to Mexico, or both, and then he was gone. Mexico helped himself to one of Canada's beers on the way out. He figured he deserved it. 

* * *

America's phone was ringing, but he'd have to take his gloves off to pick up, and he wasn't really sure he wanted to risk letting his hands get colder. Stupid Canada's cold winters. While he was debating whether or not to pick up, the phone stopped ringing, which America was grateful for, since that solved his problem. He though back over the events of the night. It had been almost an hour and a half, and still no Canada. Maybe he had gotten it wrong? Maybe it was another day, or another place, or maybe... 

America's lower lip trembled. Maybe Canada really wasn't coming. It _was_ hockey season after all. All of a sudden America began to feel a little stupid, sitting there alone in the cold, waiting for someone who might not even be coming. The last bus of the night pulled up, and America raised his head hopefully despite himself. He wasn't even sure he expected anyone anymore, but even so, a little voice in his chest still stubbornly insisted that Canada was coming, and America wanted to believe it. 

Then he was hit with bundle smelling of beer and ketchup chips, and Canada's arms were around his neck, and his brother's breathless voice was breathing apologies, but America didn't care, because the little voice in his chest was right all along. Canada had come. He shared this thought with Canada through chattering teeth. 

"I knew you'd come."

Canada's face twisted into something incredible sad and guilty as Canada took off his jacket and wrapped America in it. 

"America you idiot! Why would you sit there and wait? You should have gone somewhere warm!" 

America blinked at Canada as his brother hauled him back onto the warm bus Canada had just dismounted. 

"I couldnt do that?" America was confused. "If I did that then you would all alone when you arrived and you'd think I forgot." America sneezed again, and leaned into Canada subconsciously as he continued to shiver. "I didn't want you to feel upset!" 

Canada shoulders began to shake too, and his voice sounded tight as he responded, but the warmth of the bus was making America way too sleepy to open his eyes and look. 

"I'm sorry." 

America smiled. "It's fine. You were just a little late." America felt strangely drowsy, but a thought was occurring to him through his foggy brain.

"Hey but I'm glad you came you know. I mean, it's hockey season, right?" 

Something warm and wet fell on America's hand and Canada's shoulders shook almost as much as his voice when responded. 

"That doesn't matter. You're more important."

America began to doze off. He thought, maybe, just maybe, he heard a tiny whispered "I'm so sorry." before he drifted off, but America was asleep before he could tell Canada there was nothing for him to be sorry about.


	48. France and Spain have to take a test before they can Befriend Prussia?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *based off a Tumblr post I saw

France and Spain had known Prussia for longer than Germany had even existed, even though it was only recently they'd become quite close. Germany did not seem to care. He'd captured the two with a clever message they had supposed was from Prussia, asking them to come to his house to "hang out" - written just like that, in quotation marks-and then had quickly overpowered and tied them up once they arrived. On hindsight, it should have been a little suspicious, since Prussia wasn't the type to leave a note, preferring the much more in-your-face approach of coming tight up to you and yelling, but on the other hand, the stiff and awkward writing style did match their mental image of a country that represented East Germany, so they hadn't thought much of it.

That was how France and Spain found themselves tied to a chair with several papered in front of them, and a stern and unforgiving Germany glowering down at them. Neither of them knew what they had done to piss off Germany, but, as the country of love, France was quite cgood at reading emotions, as was Spain, and both had been able to tell there was no actual bloodlust behind the glare on Germany's face, so they had allowed the kidnapping to proceed. Still, neither had expected him to slam down several sheets of paper in front of them firmly announce;

"To associate with my bruder, you must first complete these qualification forms."

France and Spain exchanged a look. Neither of them had expected Germany to be the protective type, especially given the exasperated way he acted in front of his brother, but it made sense when they thought about it. No matter how exasperating Prussia was, he had raised Germany, and no doubt Germany was very fond of him. Naturally he didn't want his brother getting hurt. That's why they both sighed and obediently reached for the pencils at Germany's hard glare. 

"Mon Dieu!" France gasped, eyes widening as he went through the papers with wide eyes. "How many questions are there?" 

"500." Germany responded cooly. "If you get less than 425 right you fail." 

Spain hesitated from flipping through his own papers, and spoke to Germany hesitantly. 

"And what if we fail?" 

Instead of answering, Germany tightened his grip on the table in front of them, and his fingers splintered through the wood, sending shards flying up and breaking a good chunk of the table off and crumbling it into dust. Spain turned pale, and retracted his earlier question. 

"Silly question! Nevermind! I'll start right away!" 

France wisely said nothing at all and was already working on the paper. 

*Three hours later*

Germany collected the papers from France and Spain and released them from their bindings as he took the papers off too grade, and France smoothed his curls and looked nervously towards Spain. 

"What did you put for question 319?"

"C), Lure the tiger away from Prussia by pretending to be a chicken strip." 

Spain responded instantly, and France drooped and moaned in response. 

"I had E), Build a fort out of Banana leaves to hide Prussia from the tiger."

Spain's usually easygoing face also looked tense as he prodded back. 

"What did you have for question 24, part D? I had No, because Prussia Is awesome." 

France buried his face in his hands as he responded tiredly, and didn't bother to lift it. 

"i had 47.“ 

For a moment both of them were quiet, and then, as though they were one person, they cursed in unison. 

"Fu-" 


	49. America greets the new president in style?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *a request  
> "when a newly elected president walks into the Oval Office and America is just there on top of the table dancing and singing 'Party In The USA' and the president is just like who the heck is this crazy person, and the secret services is trying to stop Alfred and refusing Alfred's requests to be back up dancers. Honestly that would be hilarious"

* _This is a work of fiction and in no way reffering to any real presidents. Any correlation is completely incidental_

Elections were an emotional time of year for America, but after elections were over, regardless of who won, America had one tradition he never failed to keep. That is, he invaded the white house and threw himself a giant celebration party to welcome in his new head of office. 

Now, Canada might have suggested multiple times he do something calmer, England was in the habit of staring at America like he was insane whenever this happened, and the secret service agents tended to be exasperated, but that wasn't stopping America. A new President was in, and America was going to greet him in style! America had everything set up, from the strobe lights to the speakers blasting music. Speaking of which.... America turned to the secret service agent closest to him.

"Dude? What's going on? I thought we agreed to play my sick beats?" 

The secret agent looked at him with a long suffering stare, but stiffly responded. 

"Sir, we did not agree to this, you just said you were going to do that."

America gracefully ignored him and turned on his favorite celebrating song on full volume, before claiming on the table in the middle of the oval office, knocking several papers and one probably expensive paperweight to the floor, though America didn't care.

"You too!" America demanded majestically, pointing to two of the secret service agents like a queen choosing her knights. "You can be my backup dancers!"

"Sir, the President is going to be here any minute, please get down."

America ignored the secret service agents pleas in favor of singing along to the song's chorus rather emphatically, holding an imaginary mic as he did so and dancing crazily.

"Whoa-ao-aoooh, It's a party in the USA!" 

America was so immersed in his dancing that he didn't notice as the door opened and the new president walked into the room, surrounded by more secret service agents, and then froze. 

The strobe lights were flashing different colours, the secret service agents that were ~~babysitting~~ guarding America had managed to get some, but not all of the papers cleaned up, and "Party in the USA" was still blasting in the background as America chose that exact moment to show off his breakdancing skills on the desk, knocking even more probably important documents and expensive decorations to the floor. The secret service agent closest to America was having no luck getting his attention, and the group was forced to watch as the music reached the final chorus and America finally wound down to a stop. 

The new president coughed, and America's head snapped up with shining eyes. 

"Mr. President!"

He vaulted off the desk and landed firmly in front of the new president, hand outstretched and a beam splitting his face in half. 

"It's a pleasure to meet my new boss, sir! I'm the United States of America, but you can just call me" America"! "

America then shook the shocked president's hand with enough enthusiasm to make his new boss's arm go temporarily numb, still beaming, and one of the secret service agents turned the music off in the background. 

A trail of sweat began t drip down the president's neck as he finally understood why everyone had avoided his gaxe when he asked about the personification of the country. America's grin got even wider if possible.

"Lookin' forward ta working with ya!" 

The President began to wonder if it was too late to back out now.


	50. England and his (ex) colonies celebrate Christmas together?-Part 1

It had only been recently that England's ex-colonies and little brothers had started a new tradition, one that England didn't understand. It had been America's idea, and England had no idea how he had convinced his other brothers to agree, but it had somehow been arranged that all his ex colonies would sleep over Christmas eve and spend Christmas at England's place. America was ça still threw his giant Christmas partt y for him and all his friends on the 26, but the 25th was reserved for England and immediate family, which seemed to grow every year.

This year, at least, the youngest of his extended family, Mollosia, Wy, Hutt River and Sealand, had all chosen to skip the family tradition and throw their own Christmas party at Australia's place (England was concerned about how that would go since there was no adults to keep an eye on them, but Australia was strangely unconcerned, noting "As long as they don't burn down the place, 's all good." which England found twice as concerning). Still, the house was still plenty full.

"England! Australia took my room!"

New Zealand's plantative cry came from the top of the stairs and England sighed deeply. As soon as his ex-colonies entered his house they seemed to lose all their maturity and turn back into little kids where England was forced to play the "Dad" role.

"Australia, You have your own room!" England scolded back, and Australia's muffled voice responded from somewhere down the hall.

"Canada's sleeping there because Hong-Kong has his old room!"

There was a twump sound of a pile of blankets and pillows launching over the railing and America jumped over the railing instead of using the stairs, gathering the dropped blankets with bright eyes.

"Australia can have my room, England!" He suggested with ruddy cheeks. "Instead can I sleep in the living room?"

"He's only saying that because he wants to stay up and see Santa when he comes" 

Hong Kong tattled from where he had appeared at England's elbow, and England bit back a curse.

"I won't!"

America lied, crossing his fingers behind his back, which Canada helpfully pointed out as he walked by with an armful of maple leaf decorations.

"That's enough!" England finally snapped. "You all have your own room, and if not, there are plenty of guest rooms! No one is sleeping on the couch!"

"Awwww." America moaned, tripping Canada in revenge and sending the maple leaf decorations scarrtering, distracting England from the previous issue with the new mess. 

"Canada? Why do you have all these decorations?"

"Well, you see-"

"You know what, Nevermind, I don't want to know."

England decided that what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. New Zealand, having succeeded in kicking Australia out of his room, made his way down the stairs like a normal person, instead of vaulting over the railing, and approached E gland making his best puppy eyes, which instantly put England on his guard. 

"England," New Zealand suggested demurely, "Can we open just one present tonight?"

For a second, the entire house went quiet, and every country there stopped what they were doing and swiveled their heads to stare hopefully at England. Five pairs of practiced puppy dog eyes were aimed England's ways, and the tension was so thick you could cut it. Unfortunately for them, England had centuries of practice dealing with those, and fortified himself with the thought of how much more excited they would be Christmas morning with a mound of presents. Besides, England knew if would never end at "just one". So, England squared his shoulders and spoke firmly. 

"Absolutely not! There will be no presents opened until Christmas morning, and there will be no changing my mind!" 

The hopefully silence gave way to chaos. 

"Oh, c'mon, England! Just one-" 

"We really won't ask to open any more!" 

"Um..England... Ive been really good, so-" 

"-China would let me-"

"But what if-" 

"ENOUGH!"

England cut off the cacophony of voices with a roar of his own, and the ex-colonies all drooped, realizing the futility of their arguments. 

"No opening Presents before Christmas morning and that's final!" England commanded. "Now off to bed, all of you! Don't make me say it again!"

With many complaints and grumbles, the full grown countries reluctantly made their ways up the stairs to fight over bedrooms for another hour before they finally went to bed. 

England headed for the kitchen to pour himself a glass of scotch, and positioned himself at the bottom of the stairs, preparing to turn his colonies back when he enevitably caught them each tiptoeing down the stairs later that night to peak at presents.


	51. England and his (ex) colonies celebrate Christmas together?-Part 2

Moments before midnight, a familiar clop of hooves landed on the roof, and Finland silently slipped down the chimney and delivered several gifts to the pile already under the tree, using his mysterious Christmas powers to make sure niether him, not the gifts were burned by the fire crackling away in the fireplace, and then, just as silently, went back up the chimney, climbed back into his sleigh and flew back off into the night.

However, Finland wasn't silent enough to evade the straining ears of two fully-awake, quivering-with-anticpation adult countries, eagerly waiting for the clock to strike midnight. America rolled over and met eyes with Australia, (who was sleeping on his floor as he had decided the guest room was too far from the bathroom) and both countries popped to their feet, smoothing their pajamas and turning their eyes towards the single clock in the bedroom.

Tick. Tick. Tick. 

Tick. 

The clock struck midnight, and both men moved in a carefully choreographed moved. The door slammed open, and America took off to the nearest room - Hong Kong's- and Australia took off towards England's room. 

England had only been asleep for half an hour after thwarting all 5 of his little brother's attempts to sneak a peak, and had just barely entered the stage of sleep that was deep and comfortable when his door slammed open and light came flooding in, jerking him awake. Poor England didn't even get the chance to fully react to that sudden shock before the full weight of a continent landed on his bed, and Australia's exuberant voice chanted at him;

"England! ENGLAND! Wake up! It's Christmas! " 

England, head spinning from the sudden awakening(and the helpful bit of scotch he'd had before bed) sat up slugushly and stared uncomprehendingly at the boyishly excited face of the full-grown man who was practically bouncing in place on England's bed. Australia started back at England with sparkling eyes. Then, England looked at the clock, then back to Australia, then, with a desicive move, grabbed a handful of the blankets and pulled them over his head and he turned his back to Australia and laid back down in his bed. 

America burst out of Hong-Kong's room, younger brother in tow, Hong-Kong now fully awake and eyes also sparkling with excitement. America tightened his grip on his pillow, and Hong Kong copied him, a particularly devious look in his dark eyes. Then, with a fluid movement, America kicked open New Zealand's door (Which had been previously locked, and had a dresser pushed against it to prevent this exact situation) and Hong Kong threw open Canada's door, and both of them descended on their brothers with the fury of a down pillow and cries of "Wake up! It's Christmas!" 

By the time the family was fully gathered in the living room, it was almost half past 12, and only half of them were feeling festive.

New Zealand, who had taken possession of England's favorite chair with crossed arms, looked fully murderous and had some feathers sticking out of his missed up hair. Canada, still somewhat asleep, was trying his best to look excited about presents from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, but kept swaying as though he was moments from passing out. Hong-Kong seemed somewhat apologetic as he served England a cup of green tea, and England was rubbing a lump on the back of his head, sputtering complaints through his tears, but Hong Kong rather felt that England deserved that right. Australia, who had dragged England out of bed by the ankle as England creamed abused and clung to his blankets, showed no remorse for dragging England through the hall and down the stairs by the ankle, and instead was checking through the largest presents to see if any where for him. America was stoking the fire, but he had gotten distracted partway through and was instead examining the bulging stockings hanging from the mantle. 

England was seriously considering cursing his entire family and going back to bed, and the only thing that saved his family from his curse was the fact he hadn't been able to grab his wand before Australia hauled him down the stairs.

America had already taken to delivering presents around the room, and pressed a box decorated with fleur de lis ( And smelling somewhat of France's cologne) into his hands before tossing a maple leaf packaged bag to Hong-Kong. England considered tossing the box into the fireplace, but it was Christmas..... 

New Zealand kicked Canada awake as Australia began to bury Canada in wrapping paper, and England smiled a very small smile. 

Perhaps he didn't mind this new tradition quite so much after all. 

. 

. 

. 

. 

Moments later, the tree fell over and pandemonium ensued.


	52. Germany looks like Sweden when his hair is down? (and Prussia needs Glasses?)

*personally I think that Sweden and Germany's heights are too different for this, so I tweaked it to make it fit. Also, combined with another promo I saw one tien that noted albinos often have bad eyes sight, and what if prussia is always squinting because he needs Glasses but refuses to wear them.

Germany was often told he didn't look like his brother, but more than once he found he and his brother looked quite similar if they did their hair the same, which happened from time to time when Prussia sought fit to borrow his hairgell without asking. This was one of those times, and unfortunately Prussia's excessive "borrowing" had left the bottle empt and no hair gell for Germany to use before the meeting later that day. He'd tried using water, but it didn't work, and as he didn't have time to buy more gell, he'd simply let his hair hand down over his face. 

Germany snagged Prussia's glasses that Prussia sometimes wore to "make himself seem smarter" as he went out the door as a tiny bit of revenge on his older brother. He didn't put them on until he got to the meeting room, and that's where he learned two important facts he hadn't known before.

The first was that though Prussia said he wore them to look smart, the glasses clearly had a prescription, which meant that Prussia had bad eyes and was hiding it from Germany. This revelation made him scrunch his for head together with a scowl, squinting to make sense of the world beyond the prescription glasses his 20/20 vision did not need. 

The second thing he learned was that when he made that expression, paired with the glasses and the hair down, sitting down so the height difference wasn't noticeable, he apparently looked just like Sweden. Of course, he didn't clue into this immediately. At first, he thought he was being pranked. 

"Sve, my man!"

Denmark chipped happily, coming up from Germany from behind and laying an arm across his boulder with no prior warning. Germany barely managed not to shout in surprise, and having inherited the same Germanic discomfort with touch as Switzerland, He did not take kindly to sudden and unappreciated skin contact coming from someone other than Italy. He opened his mouth to firmly demand Denmark keep his distance and stay far away, but didn't have the chance. 

"Denmark?" Norway's even tone cut in, "Please tell me you aren't picking a fight again." 

Denmark threw his hands up in sureneder and stepped back. 

"Of course not!" 

Norway ignored his denial and looked Germany dead in the eyes apologetically. 

"Sorry about him, Sweden, I'll keep him under control." 

With that, Norway pulled Denmark away by the ear before Germany could even protest that he was not, in fact, Sweden. By the time I land greyed him with a. Somewhat shy "Hi Sweden." from across the room, Germany was sure he was being pranked. By the time Finland came over very excitedly to talk to Sweden, Germany had figure it out. 

"Um, sorry," HE interrupted Finland with one hand stretched out in a "stop" gesture, beginning an apology, "But I'm not-" 

He didn't get the chance to finish as he was suddenly tackles by little arms around his neck and a joyful cry of "Papa!" 

Germany began to sweat, hoping Italy would quickly arrive and save him. 

"I'm sorry," He began again, removing Prussia's glasses so he could more effectively use his eyes to plead for help from Finland, "But I'm not Sweden. I'm not where he is, but I'm actually Germany."

Finlamd froze, and desperately, Germany brushed his hair back from his shoulders, and the blonde British Colony hanging around his neck immediately let go with a cry, and Finland turned pale. 

" You idiots! " Ladonia announced from the doorway, where one hand was tightly holding Sweden's hand, "Dad's right here!" 

Finland turned from white to bright red and disappeared after excusing himself with a great deal of embarrassment while Sealand hid behind Finland, trying his best not to make eye contact with Germany, then both awkwardly made their wayescape back to Sweden. 

Then the meeting door opened, and Germany was accosted around the neck for the second time that day, this time by a clingy Italian, and Prussia followed Italy into the meeting room chattering away, then froze after seeing the glasses in Germany's hand. 

"Bruder that..." Prussia began uneasily, and Germany frowned deeply and mouthed words at him across the room. 

"We will talk later." 

Prussia, if possible, turned paler.


	53. Canada locks himself away?

*undisclosed reason for this event*

For the first time ever, when Canada got home he locked the door. Then unlocked it. Then locked it again. It was a strange feeling for Canada. He never felt the need to lock himself away before. His door was always open, in fact he would be grateful if someone were to walk in, even without warning, even if it was no one more than a petty thief, he would be happy. Canada always left his door unlocked because he would give anything to have someone remember him enough to visit. 

Usually it was America, never calling ahead or giving any thought to if Canada was even free to hang out, bursting in cheerfully with plans to enact. On the rare occasion, England, stopping by to check on Canada and discuss documents, or more likely looking for America. Cuba and the Netherlands also visited occasionally, though their visits were rarer than England's. France hadn't visited since that time he incited the revolution in Québec. Canada wasn't sure he wanted him to visit again.

But there was another reason Canada never locked his door. The reason being simply that he didn't have a key. He had one once, years ago, but he had lost it a long time ago and it had never resurfaced. He hadn't minded, since he never needed to use it. As it is now, his door could only be locked and unlocked from the inside, which suited his current situation perfectly, although Canada had never predicted it would happen. That's why Canada hesitated.

He could lock the door, and keep himself safe, but in order to do so he had to lock everyone else out. Something about that went against Canada's nature. America was the one who locked and double locked everydoor, the one who let people in on his terms only. Canada was the only one as far as he knew who America had told where he had hidden the spare key, so Canada could let himself in if he ever needed too. Canada had never used it, he always called ahead and tried to be considerate, so America was always there to open the door. Still, even the spare key could be removed from its spot and hidden away if America wanted, and even Canada would be locked out.

Standing there staring at his locked door, Canada hadn't known it would be so stifling to lock everybody out. He wondered if what little bit of safety he felt behind the locked door was worth the weight it put on his chest. Regardless, everytime he reached out to lock the door, he drew his hand back. He couldn't seem to walk away from the door either. For hours he stood anxiously in front of the door, unable to leave the locked door, in case someone came to the door, unable to unlock it in case the one he didn't want to see came. 

Dawn came, then daybreak, and even after that Canada remained frozen in front of the door. It was long past morning before he heard the footsteps on the path, heard England's proper knock at the door. "Canada, lad, its me. I heard about what happened last night. Please let me in." Canada remained frozen. England was his friend, his family, England wasn't there to hurt him. Even so, he couldn't seem to unfreeze, not just his limbs and his body frozen, but also his voice. "Mathew, please." England tried again, using Matthew's name, and he had never been more grateful that England called him by the English version of his name.

England tried a couple more time, knocking and calling, but Canada didn't move. Finally, England concluded that he must be sleeping, and for a moment, Canada relaxed, thinking he was leaving. Then his phone began to ring. His personalized tone for England rang clearly from his pants pocket, and there was a sharp intake of breath from outside the door. "Mathew, you're there arent you?" England's voice was sad and burdened. "Can't you open the door for me? It's just me, here."

Canada had known the whole time it was just England alone, he knew England wouldn't hurt him, that he only wanted to help, but- "I'm sorry." His dry lips barely moved, the fitst word he'd said since he turned to stone at 9:00 last night. The words were barely a whisper, but for once, England heard him. He didn't knock again. "I see." There was a subdued note in England's voice, and Canada knew he had hurt him. He wished that he could explain to England that it wasn't because he was England that Canada couldn't open the door. Canada knew he couldn't open the door for anyone, not even his own citizens.

England moved away from the door, and Canada could hear his even tone, but it was too quiet to hear what he was saying or who he was speaking too. He was on the phone, Canada realized belatedly. He didn't have to think hard to know who England had called. The only other person close enough to possibly coax Canada out of his house, his brother, America. It didn't take long for America to show up at his door either, only a little past an hour going by, which was amazing considering where America came from. "Sorry I took so long!" America greeted England. "I needed something from home."

Canada wondered what America brought. A crowbar? Was he going to remove the door? Canada almost wished he would, that he would take the door away and burn it. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that he had not eaten since 6 last night. Canada didn't move. America didn't remove the door though, only gently knocking on the wood. "Hey bro, you in there?" Canada whimpered in response.

"Mattie, it's me. I know that you're scared, and hurt, and you don't know what to do. It's okay, I'm right here." America put his hand up against the door, and although Canada couldn't see it, he knew exactly where his brother's hand rested. There was a gentle thump as America rested his forhead on the door too. "Mattie please, talk to me. Say anything." America pleaded.

Mathew kicked his lips and searched for something to say. "Al." He murmured his brother's nickname and America chuckled in response, not from mirth but relief. "Hey Mattie. Can you let me in?" Canada's words came qucik and desperate. "I can't." He was scared, scared of letting people into his heart again. Scared of the version of himself that was refusing to move and open the door. Scared of a future where he stayed Locked up forever. America considered his words in silence for a moment.

"It's really sunny out. The dafodils and tulips in your garden are blooming and the colours are really bright." Canada wondered where America was going with this. "The sun's so bright England is squinting like he has a bad hangover." America laughed, and there was something in the undertone of his brother's voice that soothed Canada. "It's nice outside," America repeated, "Dont you want to see it?" Canada did, more than anything. He wanted to leave the cold and shaded entrance and step out into he sunshine, the smell the flowers and feel the fresh air. America knew this.

"Canada." America called him by his country name. "Do you want to come out?" His voice was different than the America everyone else knew, like a parent, coaxing a child out from under their bed. "I can't." Canada felt like a child with those pitiful words. It would be so easy, he knew, only and arm's reach away, a twist of the lock, of the doorknob, and he would be free. But his body was like a statue, unmoveable and stone. "I can't." he repeated hopelessly.

America laughed, but it was a more restrained laugh than his usual laugh, a tamer laugh. "You don't have to do anything, bro. I'm the hero, remember?" America sounded like his usual self, confident and strong. Canada perfered him this way. The America he knew wasn't sensitive or soft. He was bruske and to the point. His hero wasn't afraid to do what was needed to save someone. Especially his brother. "The only thing you need to do is answer this question." America continued. "Do you want to come out?"

Canada knew the answer. "I want to come out." America laughed again, loud and raucous, like he'd recieved a gift that pleasantly surprised him. "Then I'll let you out." Canada braced himself for the heavy blow, for the door to come flying down with just one kick from his brother. He knew he should move, should avoid the oncoming danger, but his feet may as well been gued to the floor. The door didn't come crashing down, and Canada heard a sound like a key in the lock. The lock clicked, and with a gentle turn of the handle, America appeared, pocketing the key.

Canada remembered with a shock a memory from long ago. A time when the roles had been reversed and it had been him coaxing America out of his house. At that time, he had promised America something, and pressed a key into his hand. "Everytime you lock yourself away, I'll come let you out." Canada had promised. "So if I ever lock myself away, you have to do the same for me, okay?" Canada was enveloped in a hug, and over his brother's shoulder he saw England watching with concern, from a respectful distance.

"See?" America said quietly in Canada's ear. "I kept my promise." "Thank you." Canada whispered in response. Then the spell was broken, and America grinned. "Well, I am the hero after all!" He turned to England. "Yo, Artie, watchu doing way over there?" He gestured for England to come closer, and England hesitated, searching Canada's face for permission. The sunlight from outside spilled over Canada, and he found he could move, that he was no longer made of stone. Shyly, Canada opened his arms as though asking for a hug. England delivered.

It didn't take England to start fussing "Have you been here all night? These are the same clothes, your eyes are so dark..." He was cut off by Canada's stomach growling loudly, and before either him or England knew what was happening, America had them both in his care, cruising away to the nearest McDonald's. The Key slipped out of America's pocket and hit the floor beside Canada's foot. Canada picked it back up and silently slipped it back into America's pocket.. Just in case.


	54. Egypt talks to his mother?

Egypt looked up at the pyramid he was visiting. It wasn't that great of a pyramid, to be honest, and Egypt had a lot of great pyramids, including, in fact, _The_ Great Pyramid, but none of those were the one he visited today. The pyramid he was visiting was rather small, to be honest, a step pyramid instead of the flat sided ones, old and crumbling.

To an outsider, it didn't look like a special pyramid. To an archeologist, it would be perhaps, the most special, because it was the oldest pyramid there, some speculated it to be the first. To Egypt, it really was the most special. It was special not just because of how old it was, or the fact that this pyramid had no body to house, but because of who built it. To Egypt, this pyramid, the very first one his mother ever built, was the closest thing he had left to his mother.

That's why Egypt came to visit this pyramid in particular. Though he knew that she had no body to be burried there, that all nations turn to dust when they die, he still thought of this pyramid as her grave, and though he sincerely prayed that she was happy and prosperous in Aaru, and he would never wish that she would come back, he still wished he could talk to her. So sometimes he did. That was why Egypt was sitting at the base of an old, crumbling, empty pyramid on this hot and dusty day. 

"Mother," Egypt began, hesitantly, wondering if Ancient Egypt could hear him from wherever she was now, "Mother, I have so many questions, so many things I want to ask for your advise of, or things I wish I could get your help with." 

The words make him sound like a hopeless child, like the Egypt from centuries ago who came home one day and found himself all alone. Like the Egypt who hadn't even been able to see his mother's passing, or bid her goodbye. And he felt that way, just a little, like he was waiting for an answer from somewhere in the Afterlife. 

But Egypt wasn't that little boy anymore, not a young country inheriting a legacy from his mother that was so great he didn't know what to do with it. No, he was a fully developed country making a legacy of his own, now. He wasn't there to ask for his mother's help, and he told her so. 

"But I'm not here to ask questions, Mother. Im here to answer your questions, to tell you things you couldn't find out." 

He touched the crumbling stone, reverently, then he began, in a quiet and trembling voice.

"I'm doing well, Mother. I've made friends like Turkey and Israel. I met another country, named Greece, who loves cats just like you did, like I do. Sometimes things are hard, but I'm fighting through it, and even America is beginning to show an interest in me. He says he saw a bit about my house in a movie, and he asked a lot of questions. "

Egypt considered it for a moment. 

"He also asked if I could give him the Great Pyramid. I think he was joking, though. Anyways, Mother, I'm doing well here, so I hope that you are doing well wherever you are, too."

Coming to an end of his short visit, Egypt got to his feet, leaving some of his mother's favorite Figs and honeycakes on a cloth at the base of the pyramid. 

" I left you something delicious, Mother. Eat well and be happy."

Then, without a further word or even a "Goodbye", Egypt turned his back and solemnly walked away, not looking back once. Behind him, a faintly transparent hand reached for one of the figs.

*Bonus*

"I don't know why you won't speak to him. I often visit my grandsons in their sleep." 

Rome pouted, reaching for another fig. Ancient Egypt slapped his hand away, gathering her son's gift for herself.

"Its different." She responded sofly, her face gentle as she watched Egypt's receding back. "My boy doesn't need me anymore. He's grown into a fine country all on his own."

Egypt, perhaps sensing his mother's gaze, felt something warm and gentle settle in his chest, and his poker face melted into a small but pure smile that no one but his mother had ever seen. 

. 

. 

. 

Then the moment was broken by Rome starting a squabble about how his grandsons were also fine countries, and Ancient Egypt hand to sacrifice some Pine nuts to calm him down. 

Somewhere, Italy and Romano both sneezed at the same time.


End file.
